Eya
by cadeeo
Summary: From the ashes of a destroyed church, Sydney rises as Julia, a merciless and destroyed soul. Not only will the people she once belonged to haunt her, but also new and powerful organisations wants to see her burn. SARKNEY. R&R!
1. Part One revamped

Started April 20th, 2009

Eya

Title: Eya (Part One through Part Five)

Author: Cadeeo

Ship: Sarkney

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The whole thing belongs to the people who had the awesome mind to create such an awesome show. All the characters you recognise within belong to Bad Robot and the creator of Alias.

Summary: From the ashes of a destroyed church, Sydney rises as Julia, a merciless and destroyed soul. Not only will the people she once belonged to haunt her, but also new and powerful organisations wants to see her burn. SARKNEY.

A/N: Note that I am from Europe and I have no understanding of inches and miles. You are hereby warned. Rated PG-13, except for Part Three, which is R.

**Our bodies do not belong to us. We have our minds, our safe haven. When we loose our minds, we loose ourselves.**

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PRELUDE

-- The old familiar sting of betrayal --

She felt shivers down her spine, cold and merciless. The familiar feel of betrayal was shooting around her body and clenching her heart. She couldn't breathe and the world swam before her.

,,He lied.''

She choked on her tears and finally let them fall.

PART ONE

-- In fire she fell, in fire she is reborn –

Julia Thorne walked slowly down the aisle; her heals clicking on the hard stone floor of the old church. Virgin Mary stared down at her from her place in the warmed up windows. Julia should have felt scrutinized, but she was not there to be frowned upon. No…

The priest sang loudly in Latin, praising omnificent powers Julia had never believed in. Believing was for people who weren't strong, who couldn't deal with the cruel harshness of the real world. She firmly pitied believers.

She slipped into a seat beside a young woman whose hands were folded in prayer and head was bowed in respect.

,,Jane,'' Julia acknowledged silently.

,,The Black Priests have a job for you, Julia,'' Jane whispered back.

,,I thought you only dealt in fanatics?'' Julia leaned forward, refusing to pray.

,,Oh, we do, don't get us wrong,'' Jane's voice wavered dangerously. ,,Four million euros, we will offer you. We prepare to go up to ten.''

Julia raised her eyebrows in silent surprise, but kept her features blank.

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She stared at the flames that had still not died down. The magnificent old church had crumbled hours ago, the screams even longer. Jane stood praying for the murdered souls, a small twisted smile on her lips.

Julia felt the bile in her throat and fought a loosing battle to keep it down and she knew what she had to do. She had known the instant she had pressed the button to kill all those people, and she could afford no witnesses to her horrifying crime.

,,How many know I did it?'' she asked silently over the screaming sirens in the background as they observed the church from a rooftop not far away.

,,Only me, luv,'' Jane said in a Scottish accent, smirking. ,,But I plan to tell to my employers at the first given opportunity.''

Now it was Julia's turn to smirk. She reached inside her purse slowly to not raise suspicion and mercilessly shot Jane between the eyes and the other woman fell to ground, hands spread out the sides, a female Jesus dying by the feet of a new force.

Kendell opened his eyes by the sound of a door being opened. He slowly reached behind the table by his bed and brought forth a gun. He slowly rose, making as little noise as possible and crept into the living room to see a female figure going through his liquor cabinet. In the darkness of the night she looked vaguely familiar, but it was impossible to tell.

He pointed the gun at her and spoke, ,,Hands in the air!''

She didn't tense like he expected, but merely turned around and faced him. The light from a nearby street lamp illuminated her features and he frowned, taking in the woman as if for the first time.

,,Hello, Kendell,'' Sydney Bristow said coolly.

,,You're dead,'' he stated and mentally scolded himself for his utterly useless self-control.

She laughed a cold and humourless laugh, sending shrills down his spine. ,,I wish,'' she told him. ,,I was taken by the Covenant.''

,,The Covenant?'' he questioned, not having heard the name before in the many files of the CIA.

,,They are very shy, like The Man's organisation while the Alliance stood strong,'' she explained. ,,They took me and tortured me, until they thought they broke me down one memory of the time. I have been working for them ever since as their most prized assassin.''

With pursed lips he mentally gathered and stored her information away for later use. ,,Have you come here to kill me?''

,,No,'' she replied. ,,I came here to propose a deal.''

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Sark stared at the glass of his prison cell, seeing but not actually seeing. How long had he been here? He had lost track between the torture and the fainting that came after. Jack Bristow was gone from his beloved CIA; Michael Vaughn was hanging on by a loose threat; Marshall, the loveable and funny technician, had lost his usual spark; and Marcus Dixon was cold and the one in charge of his interrogations. He had seen them all fall apart by the news of Sydney's death; he had even fought off a strange stab in his heart himself, not something he wished to analyse to closely.

She had been the bright spot, the one always able to make everyone happy and make her loyal friends and family going that much harder. When the sun had gone, a dark menacing cloud had been left behind, its watery clouds hanging low over the landscape.

He stretched his toes by millimetres, otherwise staying perfectly and utterly still. He had perfected sniping easily years ago and had no problem being in the same position for hours on end. He knew 'they' watched, his onlookers. Whether it was Sydney's people or the ordinary desk people that was watching, he didn't care. They would analyse whatever he did anyway. Anything he did would be analysed down to the tiniest detail and then gone over again to make sure he had actually just eaten that thing that could have been fruit before it was dissected for him to finally eat.

He became aware of the bars to his part of the cells, being opened, but he pointedly ignored whoever it was. He closed his eyes, letting his hearing take over. It was a male, definitely, someone with a brisk walk, someone young, and not to forget the slight limp. Ah, yeas.

,,Mr Vaughn,'' he exclaimed.

The steps halted for a second, but resumed until Vaughn stood facing him. Sark opened his eyes and stared blankly at him. The man was glaring at him, trying to look scary and something he was not, but he was failing horribly. He was an ant, one of the masses, beside Irina Derevko, someone with no worth and impossible to get rid off.

,,You're being transferred to another location,'' Vaughn told him coolly. ,,They'll be getting you in five days.''

,,I'm touched. Will you miss me?'' Sark teased, not able to hold himself back.

Vaughn looked surprised at him, probably finding his mask of indifference slightly unnerving. It usually did.

_,,He is absolutely adorable, miss Derevko!''_

_,,Watch out. He bites.''_

He grinned inwardly. The memory of the shocked woman as a fifteen-year-old boy had picked up a gun and shot her fast tree times between the eyes, rushed past his eyes.

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Kendell walked alongside the vice-president of the United States into the Oval Office, not quite believing he would set foot in there as agent outside Secret Service, the agency he had started out in many years ago. The president, himself, sat behind his famed wooden desk and looked down at his papers with a slight frown.

The vice-president cleared his voice and the president looked up.

,,Ah, yes, Assistant Director Kendell, am I right?'' the president asked, covering the papers with blank paper.

,,Yes, Mr President,'' Kendell replied, not quite believing the other couldn't hear the loud thumping of his racing heart. He had been Secret Service, but he had never worked directly for the president.

The vice-president backed out, leaving them alone.

,,This Sydney Bristow,'' the president began. ,,She seems… dead.''

,,It has been seven months since her burial, sir, but I saw her walk into my house not two weeks ago, alive and breathing. I can assure you without a hint of doubt that Sydney Bristow is not dead,'' Kendell explained.

,,Tell me then, why should I be interested in the whereabouts of a former double agent? I'm sorry, but double-agents should not be trusted for obvious reasons.''

,,These are her words, Mr President. She was taken from her burning house and brought to a facility where she was continually tortured, until she gave the impression she had been brainwashed into a person by the name of Julia Thorne. She has placed herself in a position in a new and very stable terrorist organisation who is calling themselves the Covenant.''

,,She was tortured for seven months?'' the president asked, disbelieving.

,,She was subjected to the Project Christmas training, a program designed to discover and prepare agents of the United States, at a very early age. She has literally no breaking point,'' Kendell replied.

The president was quiet for a moment. ,,Tell me everything. Tell me the whole story.''

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_She looked up, seeing Virgin Mary's beautiful and famed face. It was scrunched up in hate. Fire engulfed the windows, casting a dangerous, hellish and warning glow around the church, making the faces of the saints seem as hateful as Virgin Mary's._

_She looked down at her hand, feeling it warming up strangely when it suddenly burst out into sickly orange flames, but her hand didn't burn. She could see her skin perfect where it should have become blistered and dead looking. Wondering, she held up her other hand and the same happened. Her whole body was burning and it hurt and the people were laughing at her._

_,,Vengeance!'' one shouted._

_,,Revenge!'' a little girl with her best church clothes on and a red bow in her hair, screamed._

_,,Justice,'' the black priest said, smirking and bent down to pick up a silver cross, a cross she had flung across the church, casting away the protection of God.._

_,,Sydney believed,'' someone with a very familiar voice said from behind her._

_She turned around quickly, seeing a man, evil eyed and angelic looking, walk towards her in no hurry._

_,,Sark!''_

,,Sark!''

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She woke with a start, gasping loudly. She was clutching the sheets tightly and sweat made her blonde hair stick to her face like glue. Her heartbeat was escalading and she almost expected it to shatter her ribcage and fly into the ceiling and then fly down again.

When her body had slowed down somewhat for her to think rationally, she looked to her left and saw Kendell's watch. 02.23. She had only been sleeping for thirty minutes and she groaned, lying her head back down on the pillow.

She slowly raised herself from his bed, having taken over his apartment while he had gone to the capital, negotiating her pardon agreement in total silence, in utterly confidential circumstances.

She looked at herself in the small mirror over the sink of the bathroom and shuddered at what she saw. Her eyes were sunken and black from little to no sleep. Her natural brown hair colour was showing at the roots of her honey blonde hair that looked dead and boring without having been tended to. She was falling apart slowly, her horrifying actions in the church hitting her much deeper than it should for people of her calibre and training. She could not help but be mesmerized by her own reflection; the change from what she had been to the one she had become was painstakingly easy to see. She held tightly onto the white-tiled sink, making sure her legs wouldn't give up under her and staggered towards the guestroom, her bedroom, sweet oblivion coming closer as she fell to the floor in a crumbled heap.

She vaguely heard the front door open and Kendell rushing to her side in the instant he saw her. She felt better the minute she had been dragged to the comforting bed and she clung to him, craving human contact with every fibre of her being.

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,,There is a woman,'' the president told his most trusted and loyal friend, Matthew Wayne, a highly respected intelligence agent. ,,She now goes by the alias Phoenix. She was once one of the most loyal and morally right people in the world of intelligence. Then she got kidnapped by the fledging organisation called the Covenant because of an insane old prophecy written by a crazy prophet-''

,,Rambaldi.''

,,Yes. She was dead to her family and friends, when she in reality endured seven months of gruesome torture. She died in the flames of her apartment and rose from the flames of Elizabeth's Church in Scotland. You may know her as the second Catholic Church Killer, isn't that what The Times call the person responsible?''

,,She was an American agent?'' Wayne asked shocked.

The president nodded. ,,Fourteen hours ago, I pardoned her. She is sitting on a valuable position in the Covenant with ties to the Black Priests and the much more covert organisation named Prophet 5, _and_she has agreed to do our command to some extent. She is a sleeper agent in definition, but she is ours. This is a golden opportunity, Matt.''

,,It seems wrong, sir. Morally, that is.''

,,I will be monitoring this operation myself and only I will know to what extent her missions will be carried out. Her handler is a man under the alias, Fixer. Since it will be too risky for him to contact me directly, you will be our liaison, Enquire. Give him permission to use the government owned space under Mercy Hospital by Kingsley Street in Philadelphia. This is completely confidential and Fixer will be on his own with this branch.''

,,I understand, sir.''

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Kendell stared distastefully on the extra spoon full of coffee, before adding it to plain blue mug. She liked it best black. It would keep her awake. She had allowed herself to slip in the safe environments of his apartment, meaning she didn't need to keep her stony appearance up. She didn't eat much and after a week, her carefully toned body was already weakening.

He found her sprawled on the couch, staring distantly at Oprah crying for all the lives lost in the burned down church in Scotland and he caught the irony of the situation. The one woman he didn't think would ever fall to the other side was personally responsible for the mass murderers.

He sat down in a chair by the couch. ,,You realise you can't hide here forever,'' he said silently, not meaning to distract her too much.

She nodded without a sound.

,,I honestly wish I could do something to make going back easier,'' he said before he could stop himself.

,,Sark,'' she said hoarsely. ,,Could you give me Sark?''

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Dixon shifted uneasily in his chair and looked down on his useless notes. He had honestly thought they were moving forward with the Karkoroff case, but that had not been the case at all.

,,I have been reassigned,'' Kendell told the small gathered crowd. ,,I'm leaving things in the hands of the new Assistant Director Paul Combs, a perfectly capable man. I will also be taking Sark with me to a maximum security prison on the East Coast.''

,,But, he's our best lead to Sydney's murderer!'' Vaughn objected, eyes determined and filled with grief. ,,You can't do that!''

,,Orders from Langley, agent Vaughn,'' Kendell said simply, hands on his hips.

Dixon watched for any indication, any little tremble, anything, on Jack, but the man was a blank, a wall of indifference.

Things were certainly not the same without Sydney.

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He had been drugged, Sark could tell. They dragged him from the cell he had come to hate and into a black van with more guards than the president needed. He had seen Dixon glare daggers at him, Vaughn watching him like a thing he needed as if his life depended but was slipping through his fingers, and Jack was M.I.A., absolutely nowhere to be seen.

They drove for hours until they made it to an airfield surrounded by the desert all around. He was forced out and he blinked, momentarily blinded by the bright desert sun. On the airfield stood a lone white jet and another black car, but nothing else. He stared in confusion, noticing all but the five guards that had been present at the JTFC in the van were gone.

,,In the jet, Mr Sark,'' someone said behind him, pushing him forward roughly so he momentarily lost his footing, but still the training that had been years in the making, made him quickly find his stand again.

He nodded and made his way over the warm concrete that was burning his bare feet, probably blistering them.

,,Fancy seeing you here,'' he said and smiled at the person waiting for him.


	2. Part Two

Here you go, second part of Eya. Enjoy action Sarkney.

PART TWO

-- Ignorance is bliss. Knowledge is power --

_-Two years and ten months later-_

Vaughn wondered yet again, why he had agreed to go to the formal Christmas banquet in Norway?

,,Are you alright?'' Lauren asked concerned. ,,You seem on edge.''

He smiled, what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and slid his arm around her waist. ,,Our second Christmas together.''

The words sounded hollow, but Lauren seemed to think the meaning behind them were good enough. She smiled and straightened her dress properly, before entering the large ballroom. They found Senator Reed quickly and the night started out with nice casual small talk.

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,,_Are you sure this is the only way, Eya?''_

_,,No, but we need to figure out who's trying to sell the information.''_

_,,I will be exposed.''_

_,,So?''_

_,,Those were your own conditions. Zero exposure.''_

_,,I know, but sometimes we need to do something we don't want to. We need the information. It can give us an enormous advantage. Beside, you being on the outside is easier to cover up, than Michael Vaughn's old girlfriend suddenly being very much alive.''_

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,,We have a house not twenty miles from here,'' a redheaded woman in her thirties said. ,,You should come and visit.''

,,What do you think, honey?'' Lauren asked. ,,I know work is hard to get away from, but a holiday might do us good.''

Vaughn smiled easily. A vacation really would do wonders. The workload had doubled the last four months. The Covenant had been steadily made their presence known around the world and various agencies had had to work overtime to try to bring them down. ,,Yeah, we can visit,'' he said.

,,Perfect,'' Lauren smiled. ,,We will be delighted to visit you, Melinda.''

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Sark watched silently as Mr and Mrs Vaughn mingled with the party guests. They did not stand out in any way. Lauren, the wife, seemed lifeless and pale in comparison to Eya or Sydney or Julia. What could Mr Vaughn possibly see in her? Yes, he probably would've found her attractive, had he been out looking for… company, but he'd find himself more and more attracted to his and Eya's more sexual part of their partnership and had not been looking for a while.

_Rule one: never form any sorts of attachment._

Irina's voice ran through his head, but he purposely blocked it out. He had more pressing things to attend to.

,,Volver,'' he said into the comm.. ,,status report?''

,,_Stephanie Clarke's here_,'' Volver, his and Eya's loyal bodyguard, said. ,,_Roberto di Tori, Milla Mirankovich and Ibrahim Yusuf_.''

,,All Covenant, though not highly placed,'' Sark said to himself more than Volver. ,,Still no sign of the Black Priests, is there?''

,,_No, sir_,'' Volver replied. ,,_You should keep and eye on Elisabeth Reed, though. She just came out of Melinda Larsson's office with Mirankovich_.''

Sark neglected to answer and found another sequence on the comm.. ,,You were right, Eya. Mrs Reed's a Covenant operative.''

He heard a soft chuckle in his ear. ,,_For such a valued operative, she's extremely easy to pick out_,'' Eya said.

,,That she is.'' Sark took a champagne glass from a waiter mingling between the guests. He watched as Mr Vaughn turned to face his observe point and he hastily slit further into the shadows created by the extraordinary chevaliers.

,,_Sophia Vasquez to your right. Sin Kwan to your left_,'' Eya told him. ,,_Vladimir Karkovi is Prophet 5_.''

,,And the ever present Keri Marán,'' Sark filled in. Karkovi was no small man. He towered over most of the guests. His Russian features was prominent, he stood out, which was not a good thing in their world. Marán was an entirely different matter. She was fair and graceful and could blend into almost any culture. ,,Cole is slightly out of his mind, if you ask me. Sending us to a party, which could end in your exposure, is pure madness.''

,,_It's not even a question, it's a statement. McKenas Cole is mad_!'' Eya said and she wasn't even trying to keep the smirk from her voice. ,,_Wait_…''

She had become distracted by something else, and Sark used the time to let his eyes rake over Stephanie Clarke's curves. Brown hair with blonde highlights, muscled arms, not really tall enough-

Once again, he found himself trying to shrug off the highly passionate thoughts of Eya. He clenched his hands together tightly and forced himself to stay focused.

,,_I need you to do something for me_,'' Eya said hesitantly over the comm.. ,,_You wont_ _like it_.''

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Lauren moved over the dance floor gracefully, attracting stares from a couple of the male guest. Her eyes, however, was locked on her husband. He was not happy at the moment. Whether it was That Woman's death or work stress, she could never quite work out.

Michael looked up and they locked eyes for a moment. Lauren couldn't help but blush slightly, remembering a particularly passionate night two days prior. Then he looked away and frowned deeply at something behind her. She turned around, thinking it might be some man trying to come on to her, but found instead the icy blue eyes of Mr Sark frowning slightly at her. His arms where crossed across his chest. Her blood ran cold.

,,Miss Reed,'' he acknowledges.

Michael quickly came to her aid. He took her hand and pushed her protectively behind his back. Lauren gladly followed the movement, terrified to see someone so dangerous and absolutely terrifying without the glass barrier.

,,Agent Vaughn,'' Mr Sark said expressionless.

,,How the hell did you get out?'' Michael snarled.

,,That is a tale for another time. Now, however, I must ask you to follow me.''

Lauren was dumbfounded and she was sure Michael was the same.

,,Why?'' he asked, looking suspicious.

,,Four o'clock, man with a gun pointed at you. By the Senator's right, there's a woman who's more than willing to take you down,'' Sark explained. ,,Come with me or you will die.''

Michael was a spy. He'd been good enough to be paired with That Woman, so he must've had some skill. He quickly scanned his perimeters and came to the same conclusion as Sark.

,,Lead the way.''

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,,_Hurry_!'' Eya said and he nearly rolled his eyes.

Lauren was still standing protected behind Vaughn, whose forehead was showing a fair amount of wrinkles. She was frightened, Sark could tell. Didn't think she ever had to lay eyes on him again. After all, he was in prison.

,,Follow me,'' he told them and made sure to have the two Priests in his sight. He guided them out of the ballroom and watched as the Priests hurried off in pursuit.

,,Directions,'' he demanded.

,,_There's a stairwell two doors to your right_,'' Eya replied. ,,_Go down two stories and the parking garage is will be in plain sight_.''

,,I'll get you for this, I'll have you know,'' he said slightly irritated. ,,Making me do the hard work.''

,,You're not here alone,'' Vaughn stated, as they hurried away from the crowded room.

,,Yes, because I tend to talk to myself all the time,'' Sark said and briefly turned around to shot the other man a sharp glare.

Eya's laughter soothed his irritation quickly. ,,_You can do all sorts of wicked things to me. I wont mind_.''

He found himself distracted and nearly missed the reflection in the dark windows. The male Priest had reached them and had his gun trained at Vaughn's head. Sark took his own gun, loaded it quickly and placed two well-placed shots by each of the man's ears, making them bleed. The man groaned in pain, but wasn't stopped.

,,_Add three more men. They're coming quick from the garage_!'' Eya said clearly.

Sark threw the door to the stairwell open.

,,_Go up_!''

,,Up!'' he directed Lauren.

He looked down and saw three men making their way up quickly. He fired four quick shots and they halted shortly, but quickly continued. He looked up and saw Lauren and Vaughn were already up one floor. ,,Top floor!'' he yelled to them and he saw Vaughn nod in return.

He stilled and lifted his arms. He waited no more than twenty seconds before the three men could be seen. He placed two bullets in each of them, one in the heart and one in the head. He heard a door being thrown open one floor over him and he saw the woman noticing her targets making their way up. She was too caught up in her pursuit and never saw him coming up behind her. He smacked her up against the wall and threw her down the stairs, before he shot her once to make sure she was dead.

He hurried after Lauren and Vaughn; the last Priest hot on his heals.

They were waiting on the top. Apparently, darling agent Vaughn couldn't find a way away by himself. Honestly, what Sydney Bristow saw in Mr Vaughn was beyond him?

,,Stop!'' the last man yelled, his gun pointed at Vaughn.

Sark quickly realised they were trapped. Why had Eya sent them here, when there were no escape routes?

A door opened behind the man and a woman appeared.

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Lauren knew they were trapped. She'd always been good at analysing her terrain and finding clear paths away from dangerous scenes. Then again, she'd never been in a situation quite like this, the real deal of fieldwork. She silently cheered by the fact Michael had stopped doing fieldwork when he'd come back to the Agency a year ago.

The man was bleeding from both ears and he didn't looked particularly well. Suddenly, a door behind the man opened silently and a gun appeared before he soft curves of a woman appeared. The woman shot the man's hand, which was holding the gun, and the gun dropped to the floor with s hollow thud. He screamed and the woman beat him with the bud of her gun. He fell onto the floor, blacked out.

The woman stared at the man for a long time, before she slowly looked up and brushed her honey-blonde hair out of her face.

Lauren felt Michael's hand go limp in her hand. She looked up and saw he was pale as a ghost.

,,Michael?'' she asked confused.

,,Oh God!'' he breathed out.

The woman rolled her eyes. ,,You look like you've seen a ghost.''

Lauren slowly recognised the features of That Woman. But that was for obvious reasons complete impossible.

Mr Sark snickered. ,,What a cliché.''

The woman smirked. ,,Couldn't help it,'' she said. ,,I just had to get it out of the way.''

,,Right.''

She bent down and ripped the bleeding man's shirt up. She found a silver cross, which hung on a silver chain with emerald pearls, and turned it around. ,,Sanctus Priest,'' she read. ,,It's our guy.''

,,Why were they after us?'' Lauren managed to get out, because Michael seemed to be of no use right this moment.

,,Good question, _Lauren,_'' the woman replied.

But she never replied. She went back in through the door she'd come from and Mr Sark followed closely.

,,You broke your own rules,'' he told her.

,,Shut up,'' she shot back.

Lauren and Vaughn followed them in a daze.

It was the security room. Multiple screens showed the interior of the house where the party was being held. A guard could see everything from there. That Woman had hastily begun to pack a laptop parched on the desk, connected to multiple wires, and Mr Sark was helping. They worked quick and efficiently together, a perfect team. Within a minute, they were ready to leave.

,,Volver,'' Mr Sark said through his comm.. ,,I'm following Julia to Sydney. Clear our trail.''

,,Come on,'' That Woman said and shrugged toward the door to the hallway. ,,We're a little busy.''

Lauren was dying to get away from the whole event and quickly walked out-

Only to be stopped by the sight of Sydney Bristow mercilessly killing the unconscious man lying on the hard floor, her eyes cold and features blank.

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,,Why did you kill him?'' Vaughn asked harshly. ,,He posed no threat to you.''

Sydney – oh God Sydney – rolled her eyes. ,,Explanations later.''

,,Move,'' Sark said icily and pushed Vaughn forward.

Sydney let them down to the garage and into a black BMW. Sark quickly took the drivers seat and Sydney the passengers seat, leaving the backseat to Vaughn and Lauren.

Before they had a change to drive away, a woman with Spanish features tapped on Sark's window.

,,Señor Sark,'' the woman said. ,,Señorita Thorne. I did not know you were here?''

,,Miss Vasquez,'' Sydney acknowledged.

,,Got a job from the top,'' Vasquez told them. ,,Club Adeline seventy-two hours from now in Munich. Julia only.''

Sydney barely frowned. ,, Forget it. Sark goes where I go.''

,,Orders are orders. I am just the messenger.''

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Silence had descended over the car when they'd entered the way to the North.

,,Who were they?'' Lauren asked finally. ,,The men?''

,,The Black Priests,'' Sark replied. ,,A group of religious fanatics.''

,,Catholics, who believe they are in their right to chase and convert the so called non-believers,'' Sydney continued.

,,What did they want with us?''

Sydney shot Sark a look. ,,We don't know.''

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Vaughn was going crazy. Sydney refused to say anything about anything. She'd gone eerily silent and stared out of the window, watching the mountains hurry by.

,,What the hell happened to you, Sydney?'' he said angrily.

,,Sydney Bristow's dead, Vaughn,'' she replied. ,,She died in the flames with Allison Doren. I'm Julia.''

Vaughn opened his mouth, but was rudely cut off.

,,No, Mr Vaughn, she has not been subjected to Project Helix,'' Sark said. ,,She's here and she's alive. That's all you need to know.''

Anger coursed through his veins. How dared the son of a bitch tell him what he needed to know? Why did Sark know?

,,What's Project Helix?'' Lauren whispered.

Vaughn closed his eyes in resignation. ,,Okay. Then, who is Julia?''

Sydney laughed. ,,So many questions, so little knowledge.''

,,So you wont tell me?''

,,No.''

,,Nothing?''

,,Nothing.''

,,You owe me an explanation!'' he snapped.

Sydney turned around and sent a piercing stare his way. Her eyes flickered briefly to Lauren, who was desperately clinging to his arm. ,,I owe you nothing.''

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I would like to thank something weird. I read New Moon when I started this up and it really helped me put my mind into a (slightly) mentally ill Sydney. Since I finished that book, the Twilight Soundtrack really helps me get back into the mood. So, thanks Meyer, I guess I should thank you for the inspiration.

Cadeeo.


	3. Part Three

Here you all go. Third installment. It's much longer than the two other parts, but part four's long too. Review and I'll love you forever. Rating change from PG-13 till light R

PART THREE

-- Her eyes as cold as the ice, but her passion is hotter than fire --

_She was running. The adrenalin was pumping though her veins. She needed to be somewhere, but she couldn't remember where that was? She felt the heavy weight of a pendant jumping up and down with each step she took. She lifted the pendant up and saw a round gold watch. _

_01.23_

_01.22_

_01.21_

_The clock was ticking, second by second. What would happen at 00.00? _

_She continued to run. Then she stopped. The church. Virgin Mary. The screaming people, burning up from the inside, flames came out of their eyes, ears and mouth. Their skin crackled dangerously, boiling. And the little girl with the red bow in her hair was the first to burst. _

_00.10_

_00.09_

_00.08_

,,Sydney?''

_It needed to stop. Why didn't it stop? Why had she done this?_

_00.05_

_00.04_

_,,_Sydney, wake up!''

_00.03_

_00.02_

_00.01_

_She needed to pay. She could not go on while they were dead. She irrupted in flames. She was no different than the rest and by no means immune._

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They'd been driving for hours and Lauren and Sydney had long ago drifted to sleep. Vaughn cradled his wife close, tired, without the adrenalin, but not trusting Sark at all.

He'd never spent much time in any country besides France, a place he and his parents were particularly fond of. The CIA missions were always quickly finished and almost always located in the larger cities. He never got to enjoy the beautiful nature of the many different countries. The Sahara Desert, the many fields of rice in Asia, the red sand of Australia, the unique nature of Great Britain, the jungles of the Amazon and most particularly the mountains of the northern Europe. He remembered ten years ago when he'd first set foot in the mountain covered Norway, Sweden, Finland and how he'd stared when he'd entered Denmark, a rather small country devoid of any mountains at all. It was completely different from the rest of Scandinavia, but still very much a part of it. Norway was just beautiful and simple, its stony scenery a complete opposite of the warm Los Angeles, with its large car lanes and huge houses. He stared out at the scenery and fell into deep thoughts, thoughts of Sydney, Julia and Sark.

,,Why did you help us?'' he asked cautiously.

Sark briefly glanced at him in the review mirror. ,,It was purely out of circumstance, which put of in the same place at the same time. If you think perhaps she planned your rescue down to the smallest detail, you are sadly mistaken,'' he replied.

Vaughn was about to retort, he was most absolutely not thinking that, but bit it back because he knew the assassin was right. As long as he'd known Sydney, she had always put him before so much else. When she had died, he'd lost a part of himself, a part he tried to get back by hunting down the people responsible for the fire in Sydney and Francie's apartment. That hope was lost when Kendell had taken the only lead, anyone had, away. The same man now driving the car, the same man who'd shot and killed a group of fanatic Priests.

,,Did you at least know she was alive all along?'' he couldn't help but ask.

,,No, I can't say I did,'' Sark replied, as the GPS in his Blackberry told him to lower his speed, because he was entering an area with a 'bird house', police cameras set up to take pictures of anyone driving over seventy km.

In all the time Sark had been in the holding cell in the Joint Task Force Centre, he had revealed nothing major relevant. He would talk of the Wizard of Oz or Alice in Wonderland or The Little Mermaid and fairytales in general. Barnett had gone red-eyed trying to find a connection between the books, but all they seemed to have in common was the fact it was fairytales and Sark had read them. He'd taken severe beatings, starvation and other forms of off-the-book torture and it had paid little. When asked why he had given Arvin Sloane up easily, he had shrugged and answered he would like acquaintances whenever he got out. No one had really liked that comment and Vaughn was sure Kendell had popped a vein or something equally dangerous. He'd said the same thing, when Jack came in, cold and terrifying, and asked if he knew anything regarding Sydney. No, he did certainly not have anything to do with Sydney Bristow's sad going. Vaughn had always thought Sark had spoken the truth; he was simply too disloyal of nature to have followed any orders from any employer.

Vaughn's eyes were drawn to Sydney, as she had begun shifting uneasily around in her seat. A gasp escaped from her lips and she lifted the emerald diamond, shaped as a teardrop, and clutched it in her fist tightly.

,,Sydney?'' Sark asked calmly, flickering his gaze from the road to Sydney's sleeping form.

There was no response and she kept fidgeting. Gaps came quicker and Vaughn found certain parts of him stirring awake by the erotic sound of it. Sark, however, did not look aroused, Vaughn really doubted anyone would be able to tell, but instead he was frowning.

,,Sydney, wake up!'' he said forcefully.

She'd stopped completely and whatever it had been seemed to have gone over. That was until she opened her eyes. ,,Let me out!'' she hissed wildly and threw herself at the door, before figuring out how to open it. She threw the door open and threw herself out, before Sark had a change to stop.

Vaughn was glad it was in the middle of the night and absolutely no one was there.

Lauren woke by the sudden cold wind rushing into the otherwise warm car. She stared dazed the open door, before she snapped out of the post-sleep confusion. Sark was already backing the car and was out of the car the millisecond after he'd reached the point where Sydney had landed on the cold way.

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Sark ran towards Eya, who had risen from the ground and was now on her way to the bottomless canyon beside the way.

,,Sydney!'' he called. ,,Stop!''

,,I must die,'' she answered, a manic expression in her eyes. ,,I must pay for all the fire.''

,,No, you will _not_!'' he said and took a firm hold of her wrist, turning her around roughly. She was still sleepwalking, but was still aware of her surroundings, aware enough to know where to throw herself.

,,The clock said it was time I paid, that it was my penance,'' she told him desperately, not having a clue she could fight him off. ,,I will die because of the fire.''

Sark dragged her roughly away from the edge and trapped her by a nearby tree. He held her wrist tightly, until she stopped struggling and just looked at him with unfocused brown eyes.

,,Don't you understand?'' she said weakly.

He kept staring into her eyes, letting an intensity show others could only dream of. Her eyes slowly began to focus and horror imbedded itself instead. She relaxed against his hold and as soon he released her wrist, she threw them around his neck and let her head lay to rest into the hollow of his neck, while silent tears made her strong body tremble.

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Vaughn had gripped Lauren's hand tightly, watching the scene play out before him, Sark stopping Sydney throwing herself off the cliff in a sick form of sleepwalking. He couldn't hear Sydney's frantic speech, but could guess from the way her eyes shone with undisguised madness.

They stood together, Sydney and Sark, holding each other close, Sark rubbing soothing patterns up and down her back to calm her. He was only slightly taller than her and they matched a little too well for Vaughn's taste. This was obviously not the first time Sark had done this, soothed Sydney out of hellish nightmares and suicidal sleepwalking.

,,Did you hear what she said?'' Lauren asked, her voice so low, he had to lower his head to her mouth to hear.

,,No. You?''

She stared up at him, her eyes big, confusion mixed with fear and anxiety. She'd heard nothing, like him. ,,I didn't know her, Michael,'' she said slowly. ,,Not like you. She didn't use to behave… like _this_, did she?''

He took a deep breath. ,,By this, you mean kill an unconscious man in cold blood? Then no, she didn't use to be like this.''

And the words frightened him. What had made her capable of killing a man like that and how could a man, she'd despised nearly as much as Sloane, soothe her?

What had destroyed Sydney Bristow?

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Lauren Reed had come to Los Angeles for the NSC to close up Irina Derevko's case, the walk-in, the information given, the escape. But it had been hard. The people who had been most involved, was either, in Sydney Bristow's case, death, in Michael and Will Tippin's case, in complete and utter heartbreak, in Weiss, Marshall and Dixon's case, the loss of a beloved friend and finally, in Jack Bristow's case, the utter destruction of loosing one's daughter. It was not a very cooperative bunch.

_,,What could your relationship with Irina Derevko's daughter, Sydney Bristow, be described as?''_

_,,Don't say her name! You don't have the right to say her name.''_

_,,Please, answer the question, Agent Vaughn.''_

_,,She was my girlfriend, okay. Now she's not. Because she's dead and she wont ever be alive again.''_

Lauren had never spoken directly about Sydney Bristow in any questioning session with these people again. Sydney was their weak spot and they had lost their spirit with her.

She never fooled herself into thinking Michael could ever love her the same way he'd done Sydney. Sydney had been his everything, in his body, in his thoughts, in his heart, and after loosing someone like this; you could never give it to someone else.

They came back, Sark directing Sydney towards the car, her head still resting on his shoulder. She had her arms wrapped around herself, and frankly, it made her look sick. She was white as a sheet. Sark let her stand outside the passenger's door and walked to the trunk, where he scrambled around for a bit, before returning into sight with a grey blanket, he wrapped around her. He opened the door to Michael's seat and said: ,,Move over a bit, Mr Vaughn. The seat needs to be removed.''

Michael wrapped his arms around Lauren and she snuggled into him, while they watched Sark pull off the seat and display a black box. He found a silver key in his jacket and opened the box. It contained of four neatly placed guns plus bullets, passports, credit cards, licence plates, a laptop and a container of blue pills. He took the pills and placed the seat back on its rightful place. Without words, clearly indicating it was not the first time it had occurred, he handed Sydney the pills.

They both got into the car and Sydney swallowed the pills without ceremony. Her eyes quickly began to drop and she wrapped the blanket closer around her. Sark started the car and continued driving at a brisk pace.

,,Will it ever end?'' she asked, her forehead pressed to the comfort of the cold glass of the car window.

,,No,'' he replied certainly and Sydney fell into unconsciousness.

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They reached their destination by early dawn. The sun couldn't penetrate the heavy clouds and snowflakes fell around them. They'd driven up and into a well-hidden pathway. The snow lay heavier there, but the pathway was almost clear of all snow. Someone had been there recently.

Sark halted the car to a stop outside a red house with green windows and a roof covered with the purest snow, Vaughn had ever seen. It looked inviting and comfy.

Sark turned around in his seat. ,,It's very cold outside. Hurry inside and heat up the fireplace. The keys are under the frog beside the front door and the code is 4065021.''

Lauren nodded.

,,And you? Can you take her?'' Vaughn asked and looked pointedly at the heavily sedated Sydney.

,,Are you offering to help me?'' Sark said and Vaughn saw the condescending smile.

Ignoring the blondes' teasing, he told his wife to hurry into the warmth of the house. Lauren wrapped her cardigan closer around her, opened the door and walked as quickly as she could to the front door and disappeared inside.

Sark got out and walked around to the door to Sydney. She was leaning into the door and would fall out if Vaughn didn't hold her back. He grabbed her shoulders from behind the seat and a jolt shot through him. He hadn't touched her since the night of the fire. Sark opened the door, grabbed her under the armpits and the knees and her head rolled into shoulder. He lifted her up gently and Vaughn could see his muscles straining under the dead weight. He hurriedly got out and helped the other man carry her. Together they got her into the wooden house, where Lauren was busily trying to light a fire from the firewood beside the fireplace. She closed the door after them and Sark directed them up some stairs in the hallway. When they reached the top, he took all of Sydney, went into one of three rooms and placed her on an already made bed.

Vaughn went downstairs to help Lauren, who had not yet successfully lit the fire. Sark joined them quickly. He went over to a nearby cabinet and drew out three tea mugs. He knew where the things were and Vaughn realised it looked lived in. They'd spent time there, before Sark had brought Vaughn and Lauren there.

,,Are we going to stay here for a while, Mr Sark?'' Lauren asked, trying to put a mask up, but failing miserably. ,,The CIA and NSC will look for us if we do not report in tomorrow. They will find you.''

Sark had stopped preparing the tea and turned around to stare at her. ,,Highly doubtful. We have men for the sole purpose of hiding us. They will have thought of anything. There is absolutely no way we can be traced back to you.''

Vaughn frowned. ,,Status quo, we're stuck here, on a mountain with no people nearby?''

,,Obviously,'' Sark said and continued on with his task. ,,We will stay here until we get the all clear signal. Do not attempt to escape, I do not think; you would last long in the cold. Eya doesn't want you dead. Your room is the last one upstairs, sheets and other necessities is in the closet. We usually eat dinner at seven. Otherwise you are free to do what you want.''

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She was so beautiful and graceful, but made of ice, the blinding, sparkling ice, though she was alive; eyes seeing like two clear stars, but there was no calm or peace**.**

-- Description of the Snow Queen, Hans Christian Andersen

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She woke slowly. It was dark outside and she realised she'd slept the day away. She stirred, trying to stretch her limps. Sark's arms tightened around her stomach, as he lay spooned to her back. He breathed in and out slowly, sleeping soundly, tickling her ear. She smiled and relaxed into his comforting and safe embrace.

After half an hour, her stomach was growling and she needed to use the bathroom. Her body felt icky from travelling and sleeping. A warm bath would do her wonders. Sark had, in the meantime, rolled onto his stomach and had his face buried in her hair. She slowly stood up, making sure to cover Sark with the comforter.

She'd always loved this place; it's fairytale look in the winter made her think of Jack and Laura Bristow, before it had all gone to hell. When she was four, Jack her given her a book of fairytales, Hans Christian Andersen, especially the story of the Ice Queen, where the boy had grown evil by a splinter in his eyes. His sister had done everything she could to find him and had in the end saved him. Jack had read it to her and her mother would sit in the chair by her bed, sometimes to watch and sometimes to read for herself.

She had never forgotten the look of pure love her father would send Laura, and she had wished she could have had that for herself one day, a strong man, who would read fairytales to their beautiful children.

She sighed and turned on the water, then waiting for it to heat up. She could look herself in the mirror and watch the deep despair hidden deep beneath the layers of build up walls. Only in the solitude of her bathroom and with Sark in their most intimate moments, could she allow the walls to fall way and she could just be her.

Eya.

Not Sydney Bristow, the ever morally right and devoted American agent, or Julia Thorne, the cold-hearted murderer and the one responsible of leaving a church in ruins for the sum of eleven million Euros, just a person in between.

Sark had come up with the name, of course. He had not wanted to call her Julia. It was wrong, he'd said. She was not this Julia person, the Covenant had made her into, and neither could she ever go back to the innocence of Sydney. So for him only, she had become Eya, the last letter of Anne, Sydney and Julia.

He had saved her, kept her from going insane. He could qualm the madness when she most needed a rock, someone who knew everything. He'd seen her at her possible worst. She could scream and fight him for days and still he would walk up to her, let the walls of his own eyes crumble and look her with the most heated and intimate look. She would always instantly calm down.

She let the warms droplets of water fall over her, cleaning the last remnants of the nightmare from her physically. She opened her eyes and looked at her feet, only to see some of the colour of her newly dyed hair, disappear down the drain. She rested her hands on the green tiles and let the warmth of the water engulf her.

He came in to join her quickly. He, like her, slept better together than apart, but it was never acknowledged and therefore never discussed. He placed his hands over hers and rested his chin against her head. ,,It got cold without you,'' he murmured and she knew he was lying. They both craved the intimacy between them, but he would never admit it. It was bad for business to show weakness, but their closely selected bodyguards, with Kar Volver in front, knew anyway.

,,Why did you bring them here?'' she asked. ,,This is our place. No one knows about it, except for Volver, but he knows everything.''

Sark chuckled, making his chest vibrate against her warmed up skin. ,,Everything except for the fact you work for United States Government and I tag along for the ride.''

,,I think he knows, actually. He just doesn't acknowledge it.''

,,Smart man. Nasty death it would cause anyway and completely waste of exceptional intelligence.''

She turned around to face him, leaving his arms to brush her shoulders, as he trapped her in between his arms. ,,Alright, Mr Avoid, two can play this game. Do we have enough food for four people?''

,,Plenty,'' he replied and tilted his head slightly, to look her with his azure blue eyes.

,,Good,'' she said and captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

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He threw her against the wall, needing to touch her. She didn't protest, but wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He attacked her throat, biting and suckling. It was not about being gentle; it was about passion, desire and need, about feeling anything at all. She moaned and he forcefully took her wrists and trapped them over her head. The water fell over them, cascading down his back and over her beautiful female curves. Her blonde hair stuck to her face, the make-up from the banquet running down her cheeks, and still he had never seen a more erotic sight. They locked eyes, brown and blue, moving simultaneously, letting their barriers fall, like Sparta, quick and painful. Passion overtook them.

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Vaughn stirred beside Lauren by the loud thump of something falling and clattering to the floor. He sat up and drew the comforter closer around him.

,,Morning, sleepyhead,'' Lauren said. She was reading with the dim light of the bedside lamp. ,,Or rather, evening.''

,,What time is it?'' he asked.

,,Six forty-seven.''

,,How long have you been awake?''

Lauren frowned slightly, trying to remember. ,,Forty minutes or so. I found the _Lord of_ _the Rings_ in the bookshelf and decided to read instead of waking you up, because I'm scared too go downstairs.''

Vaughn smiled.

They both got up and readied themselves to go downstairs. The instructions had been clear. Seven o'clock. Neither of them wanted to risk what could happen if they did not show.

It smelled good at least and Vaughn hoped Sydney would cook. She might not have been the best cook, not like Francie, or at least impostor Francie, but he had loved it anyway.

He was right. Sydney stood beside the sink and chopped salad, while Sark had perched himself beside the oven, where he seemed to be doing absolutely nothing.

,,I don't think Sanko would make that move,'' Sydney told him. ,,It's unwise.''

,,Sanko thinks he's got more power than you. His mercenaries have inflicted his ego too much for him to see the crash the operation will cause. If he paid enough attention to people like Stephanie Clarke, a tactical mastermind, he would not be such an embarrassment,'' Sark replied.

,,_He's_ got an inflicted ego, _you_ say,'' she said, teasing him.

,,I do most certainly not have an inflicted ego,'' he smirked and saw Vaughn and Lauren for the first time. ,,Come inside. Eya decided to show us her fantastic culinary skills today. A rare thing after the accident two years ago.''

Sydney looked offended. ,,I can cook.''

,,No, your friend Francie could cook and I know for a fact Alison could, but you,'' he seized her up. ,,you can't cook.''

She turned to look at Vaughn. ,,Tell him I can cook,'' she whined. ,,I can cook.'' She took a nearby plastic spoon and began attacking Sark with it. He held his arms up to protect himself, all with a smile on his lips.

,,No need to lower yourself to violence,'' he got out between punches. It was nothing serious and he quickly had her overpowered. The spoon clattered to the floor.

Sydney stared up at Sark with a look of pure mischief and Vaughn knew she held the ace somehow. She leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his. He responded quickly, until he suddenly pulled back.

,,Payback's a bitch,'' she said. ,,Now get out of my kitchen until the food's ready.''

Sark chuckled and held his hand up to wipe blood away from his lips. He then stalked off to the bathroom and came back when the food was put on the table.

Sydney had worked silently, not once looking at Vaughn or Lauren. Lauren had asked if she could help, but Sydney had just ignored her.

The food was pleasant, chicken and rice with a perfect amount of curry sauce.

,,You do not possibly think the meeting was initiated by Sanko?'' Sark asked midway through the meal.

,,No, maybe initiated by his behaviour, but not him,'' Sydney replied. ,,He's a threat to our secrecy.''

,,Best left assassinated,'' he ended and leaned back in his chair.

,,Exactly,'' she said coolly.

Cold shivers ran down Vaughn's spine by her icy words. He needed to remind himself of everything he'd seen her do since she'd shot and killed the man at the Senator's party. If he wasn't sure before, he was now. She'd joined the opponents, the people she'd fervently tried to destroy for so long.

She'd joined Sark, something she'd said she had never even considered, even when he had flat out asked her.

Vaughn suddenly lost his appetite.

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Sark was a patient man by nature. Seven months of incarnation in the CIA holding cell and seventeen years of training by Irina Derevko herself, had forced him to be. He crossed his arms, trying to look patient, but really keeping the cold at bay. It had snowed the whole day and had finally stilled at three-thirty, where the white world had begun darkening. There was not much twilight in this part of the year in middle Norway, but the short moments it happened, Sark always loved the most. There was something special about the twilight, the inevitable transition from day to night, he had always appreciated. Maybe that was why he'd taken Sydney to the cabin only a month after his release. They'd spent much time there, always making sure to spend Christmas Eve and New Year in their own little paradise

He had patiently trained himself to always think of her as Eya; afraid he might whisper out her name in his sleep, afraid of who might be watching. But sometimes he just couldn't, sometimes he needed to remind himself of the world she came from, a world where her eyes weren't ice, but the warmest fire, burning everything in its wake. He had never wanted to erase the fire in her, never wanted her to loose the one thing - the first thing – he'd ever noticed about her.

He closed his eyes and let the snowflakes fall onto his face.

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She had pointedly avoided Vaughn and Mrs Vaughn (Reed, the woman didn't even take his name), throughout the whole second day of their day in the cabin. She'd mainly stayed in the room, sleeping off the after-effects of the drug, which had knocked her unconscious. Now, she had placed herself in the kitchen, staring out at the white landscape, wondering if she could make it back from Munich before December 24th in nine days.

,,There are three bedrooms,'' Vaughn said from behind her. ,,But only two of which is used. Is Sark your boyfriend?''

She couldn't help but smile. ,,No, partners who enjoy sex with each other.'' Vaughn choked. ,,Don't look so surprised.''

,,How can you partner up and have… sex with that murderer?'' he said angrily.

She turned around slowly. ,,Vaughn,'' she said softly. ,,Michael. The reason why I partnered up with Sark is not your concern. Sex, however… sex is like chocolate.''

,,Chocolate?'' he was frowning that frown she'd once found endearing, but now found quite _annoying_.

,,Yes, chocolate. There are different kinds of flavours, some expensive others cheap. Why should I only have one kind of chocolate when there are so many different kinds of flavours?'' she explained, pleased with herself for the metaphor.

,,And he's okay with that? That you sleep with other… men?'' he spit out.

,,Neither of us are entirely faithful, Vaughn. It's just how it is.''

Vaughn looked like he was about to reply with something nasty, when a transmitter, disguised as a cabinet doorknob, began beeping.

V.O.L.V.E.R

It spelled out with a code system only known by very few. Vaughn looked confused, as she had done the first time she'd noticed it. She ran outside, knowing Sark would be there, not caring it was extremely cold.

He was easy to spot, mostly because she knew where to look, but also his fetish for black clothes made it that much easier. He stood on the roof, looking up into the sky with a look of pure peace on his face. She bent down and scooped snow into her hands and formed it into a ball. She sent it flying into the air with a scary precision and hit him squarely in the back.

He stumbled slightly and turned around to look down at her.

,,What are you doing?'' he called.

,,Annoying you!'' she replied with a smile. ,,Volver wants to call!''

,,Volver can wait,'' he said, crossing his arms again. ,,Now, go inside. You're freezing.''

She rolled her eyes. ,,If I didn't know better, I'd think you cared about me.''

,,Just your health.''

Again, she sent snowballs towards him, her fingers freezing in the winter cold, but not caring.

,,Really, Eya, why are you so childish?'' he said.

,,I'm tired of seeing Vaughn's face and his picture perfect, I'm-a-complete-know-it-all, wife. I just want them gone so I can have my wicked way with you on the kitchen floor like we planned.''

,,I didn't want to bring them here,'' he told her and took two steps backwards. ,,But you risked our exposure for this and therefore we must pay some consequences.''

She felt her temper rise slightly. She was tired of being careful with everything she was for the good of fragile Michael Vaughn. Why did he have to question everything she did?

She watched Sark jump from the roof and land in a heap in a giant pile of snow to her left. ,,Aren't you graceful,'' she said in a sarcastic tone. ,,How can there possibly be consequences?''

He took a good hold of her, when he'd risen from the snow, and guided her inside quickly. ,,You're turning blue, you incompetent fool. You do not need to become sick now.''

She was grateful for getting inside, but that did not mean he could start talking about something else. He had taken off the thick layers of clothes, which would keep the warmth inside and the cold on the outside. He wrapped his arms around her to transfer some of his body warmth, trying to make the gentle shivers go away. She let herself bask in his comfort a little before she shrugged out of his embrace.

,,Tell me,'' she demanded coolly. ,,Tell me what the hell is going on!''

He turned away from her and moved into the living room, ignoring her demand. Vaughn was still there, looking slightly baffled and Lauren must've joined him.

,,It was a test,'' Sark started. ,,The Christmas banquet was a test. You fought off agent Weiss with Simon Walker in Warsaw a month ago. Mr Walker reported back to Dr Gregorevich, who then began to question your loyalty.''

,,My loyalty to the Covenant is impeccable,'' she snapped, remembering the Russian doctor, Gregorevich, the one in charge of her torture in those seven months.

,,Weiss is not dead, Eya. Since when have you left a witness behind? Certainly not since I partnered up with you. The Doctor is in no position to test your loyalty, so he simply asked for McKenas Cole, who knew Sydney Bristow to a certain extent. You failed to let your ex-boyfriend be, a man you fervently loved for a long time before I knocked to out off you.'' He was controlled as always, which made his words all the more powerful, simply because he was right. ,,When you go to Munich, I will hunt down Cole and Vasquez and make sure they will be quiet. It was stupid and careless and forced me to take countermeasures.''

She crossed her arms, giving him a defiant look, before she turned around and stormed upstairs.

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Sark stared after her for a while, before he sighed inwardly and went into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

When Mr and Mrs Vaughn had gone to bed the first night at the cabin, Sark had contacted Volver, ordering him to find out what had transpired at the Christmas banquet. Why had the Black Priest dared to enter a party filled with Covenant members and their friends, such as Keri Marán and Vladimir Karkovi from Prophet 5? The Black Priest was not known for their politeness, as they had a habit of punishing and revenge member who had been killed or hurt in any way. Their fanatical ways was strange, stupid and brought them all together like government agencies with their married workers. Attachment.

Volver had searched for answers and had responded quickly. Sark was known throughout the intelligence world as the first Catholic Church Killer, a fact that had rendered a possible alliance with the Priests impossible, no matter how good he was. They wished revenge. Cole had a half-sister, McKenzie, who had joined the Priests with her husband. She had control of the Scandinavian cell of Black Priests and she was more than happy to send some of her people out to help her beloved brother. The fact Cole had a sister was not very well known and only because Volver came from a family, where his two uncles had joined the Priests in their youth and because of his friendship with McKenzie, she had told him. She had pulled some strings for him and had connected her brother with Dr Gregorevich.

,,Unfortunately, McKenzie is more loyal to her brother than me, so the attacks on Mr and Mrs Vaughn wont stop,'' Volver had said. ,,You will need to dispose of Cole… quietly.''

V.O.L.V.E.R.

The cabinet handle spelled out to him in code. He sighed and opened the cabinet door. He began pulling out the glasses stocked there and removed a fake wall to pull out a long distance communicator shaped like a CD holder. Finding the right way to activate it, he sat it down on the nearby dinner table and took a large swig of the hot coffee, warming his throat.

,,I've always thought _The Hildebrand Rarity_ was much better than _The Property of a Lady_,'' he said to no one in particular.

,,_I must disagree_. The Hildebrand Rarity _was always deeply underrated_,'' Volver answered over the communication device, giving the right answer to Sark's personality test.

,,Evening, Volver,'' Sark greeted.

,,Evening, Mr Sark. I have taken the necessary precautions. You are free to leave,'' Volver said.

Sark's eyes swept to the unwelcome visitors. ,,Wonderful. You will be going to Munich with Julia?''

,,Yes.''

,,Where is Radcliffe these days?''

,,Madrid, if I'm not mistaken.''

,,Send him to Oslo. I'll meet him there with the others. And alert Zusac. He needs to prepare Project Clarity to the 17th.''

,,Of course, sir,'' Volver said. ,,I need to go. Gerard Montague wants to join our net of intelligence.''

Sark frowned slightly. ,,He's French Intelligence, is he not?''

,,He is.''

,,Good. Get things done,'' he commanded and turned off the communicator.

He put it back in place and put the fake wall in place before he readied himself for Eya, who was feeling betrayed, not one of her most pleasant moods.

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,,Eya?'' he said silently as he entered their bedroom.

She was pacing, back and forth, from the nightstand to the end of the bed and back again.

,,Why is there always something behind everything?'' she asked, her voice shaking with badly concealed anger. ,,Why couldn't I see?''

Because it's our way of life, he wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut. She knew.

,,Why else would the Priests dare to enter a Covenant party?'' she said to herself.

He sat down onto the bed, folded his hands and looked at her. She stopped and stared down at him, the cool shield around her eyes slowly melting. He reached up and grabbed the sleeve of her black sweater and tucked her down beside him. She let her head fall down to rest on his shoulder and drew unrecognisable symbols on his trousers. It was a comfortable position.

,,Do you think we could not be spies?'' she asked. ,,Could you really imagine yourself as anything but a spy?''

,,We were made for this life, Eya,'' he replied honestly, knowing she would demand a truthful answer if she sensed he was lying. ,,I'm am what Barnett called a sociopath. I would not be fit for any other lifestyle. Our choices were taken from us the first day Irina Derevko laid her eyes on us.''

,,It's sad,'' she stated and they sat side by side, silent.

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In the outskirts of Oslo, the Norwegian capital, Sark parked the car by in a deserted parking lot with a nice view over the traffics lanes in and out of the city. The landscape had been white the whole way from the cabin in the high mountains.

The Black Priests hadn't been after Michael or herself, which Lauren found extraordinarily calming. The fact Sydney Bristow or Julia Thorne or whoever she was, had claimed herself to be complete loyal to the Covenant, was, however, not. It was more than unsettling.

She remembered how Weiss had looked after the mission in Warsaw, bruised and with his left arm in a cast, with reports of a man and a woman fighting their way through a military base with breakthrough technology hidden away. Weiss had been the lone survivor of the horrible massacre, and even he had been left for dead. Or so the CIA had thought. It seemed That Woman had saved his life. And now the same woman had risked exposure because… what? Why had she saved them, her ex-boyfriend and said ex-boyfriend's wife?

So even though Lauren had only seen Sydney do horrible things, killing the bleeding Priest for example, she felt both relief and fear. Sydney had let herself become something she had not been; Michael was a clear witness to that. He had told her about Sydney's friend Will, a reporter who had stumbled over the name SD-6, Sydney's former employer, and had been sucked into the world of intelligence against her will. She had not wanted to see her best friend live his life based on a lie, and had fervently argued against Will's possible recruitment. Sydney Bristow was the embodiment of fire, whereas Julia was cold and deeply troubled. Michael's own words after Sark had followed her upstairs a couple of hours before they were ordered to be ready to leave within minutes.

Lauren felt fear for what this saint, this perfect creature, this divine being, (Marshall, Weiss and Michael's words) had turned into, but she still felt relief by the fact, her and Michael was not dead… yet.

,,So,'' Sydney said hesitantly. ,,I need to go.''

Sark nodded. ,,Your reflexes are slowing. Take care.''

She raised her eyebrow, but taking the comment without defence.

,,If you're back on Pandemonium…'' he started.

,,Go to hell,'' she said icily and opened the glove compartment to find a gun.

,,I'll meet you there.'' Sark smirked openly.

Sydney opened the door and went out into the freezing cold, where she found a black Audi waiting for her.

Sark started the car and speed off, taking Lauren and Michael with him to an unidentified end.

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	4. Part Four, Chapter A

Another chapter. The plot thickens and will continue to thicken.

PART FOUR

Chapter A

-- A spy's life is always based on lies --

_- One month later -_

Argentina

Eric Weiss ran. Fast, very fast. His followers were persistent and he thought to himself, he would have given almost anything to get a partner, who wouldn't expose them before they even reached the target. He glided over the trunk of a car, loudly cursing the hot Argentinean air, which made him sweat like a pig.

He slid through a door opening, entering a restaurant kitchen. He smashed into a waiter, who lost a large tray with local food, and quickly looked into a nearby oven, counting his persistent followers. Only two. That was always something, since he'd left the Covenant party with six of them. He'd hopefully gotten some of them, jumping under the bridge two blocks back.

He ran into the main restaurant and out into the street, which was relatively deserted, so no chances of blending in with others.

,,I need back up!'' he called into the comm..

,,_You're moving in the complete opposite direction of agent Lennox_,'' Jack told him calmly.

,,I can't turn around!'' Weiss said slightly panicked.

,,_Then, I suggest you hide_.''

But out of nowhere, something hit his head and he quickly lost consciousness.

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Argentina

,,Weiss?''

He groaned, the giant elephant having a nice stroll in his head didn't make anything good. He squinted in the dark, trying to see whose voice had wakened him.

,,Weiss? Are you awake?'' the female voice hissed.

It sounded so much like _her_ it hurt. But it couldn't be.

,,This is a very good dream,'' he mumbled.

,,What?'' the voice said confused. ,,Listen, Weiss. We've been captured. Somehow A. G. Doren must've survived the shots and she took me somewhere? I think we're in South America?''

He could see her outline now, her hunched form leaning on the wall.

,,We need to get out of here,'' she kept on. ,,The guards will be back in two minutes and I need you up and running.''

,,I don't understand?'' he said. ,,You're dead?''

He was still extremely confused; the elephant doing a pondering tap-dance.

Before he had gathered himself completely, she had him up and running with bullets flying around his ears. It felt like hours before they stopped.

And he finally got a good look at his rescuer. He did a double take.

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_- One month later -_

Los Angeles

She was yawning, Vaughn noticed for the third time in fifteen minutes.

She was doing that a lot lately. Rising from the dead with no memory of where you'd been for the last three years, could do that to a person.

Sydney Bristow had been back for a month, a month of emotional stress for all involved somehow with her. Her increasing paranoia got worse every day. She refused any contact with others, shying away from touches. Her medical examination showed that her collarbone had been recently broken, so she could only become a desk officer. The passion she brought to fieldwork was hidden away inside her, fighting to get free. She could do nothing and Vaughn knew it killed her slowly. She was fantastic as a researcher, but she belonged in the field.

,,Simon Walker,'' Dixon started, the director job suiting him well. ,,was seen with Anthony Radcliffe yesterday in London. We have therefore successfully linked Walker to Julia Thorne's intelligence network.''

Julia Thorne, the almost taboo subjects since Sydney had resurfaced in Argentina, having been god know where. July 10th, the one year anniversary of Sydney's disappearance, Jack had showed up at the Joint Task Force Centre after having gone rogue for six months, bringing the name Julia Thorne with him, the woman he had linked to his daughter's disappearance. Vaughn, who had been forced to leave the CIA four months earlier, had only heard the otherwise confidential news, because Weiss had taken pity on him.

Sydney had flinched, hearing the name, but that was the most emotions anyone got from her these days.

,,Agent Weiss sent us this,'' Dixon told them and nodded towards Marshall, who started a video feed, showing the British man, Simon Walker, beside a middle-aged man with clear South American decent, on a bridge with a view over London Eye, the large carousel in London.

,,_He's getting bloody worried_,'' Walker told Radcliffe. ,,_The only contact he has with her, is through their bodyguard. I heard she left him._''

,,_He threw her out_,'' Radcliffe said. ,,_Or so I've heard. Nobody knows_.''

_,,Whatever is going on between the blondes, he's still making me go to Amsterdam. Like I don't have forty other things to bloody tend to_,'' Walker said annoyed.

Radcliffe smirked. ,,_They assigned you to her, didn't they? Before she set him free. If she hadn't done so, you would've been where _he_ is_.''

,,_I honestly don't care. She's the best fuck I've ever experienced. I am glad the whole lovey-dovey thing Marán and Karkovi have going on, hasn't gone to her head. She does not care for anything_.''

Dixon motioned for Marshall to stop the file. ,,Mr Walker was seen with a blonde woman in a period of two months three years ago. We have also before intercepted conversations between the people we are sure to belong to Thorne's network, where Thorne and her partner are referred to as the blondes.''

,,You think Walker's still in contact with her?'' Sydney asked.

,,Where Julia Thorne is concerned, we cant be sure of anything. The important thing is that Simon Walker is able to identify her,'' he stated.

,,Are we bringing him in?'' Jack asked.

,,I sent agent Lennox after Weiss this morning.''

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Los Angeles

Everything had gone well, until two CIA agents had captured him and dragged him off to the bloody US of bleeding A and locked him in a glass cage, where he felt like being in the zoo. The food was horrible. The cot was making his backache worse and the surveillance cameras were following his every move.

And best of all: outside his cell stood three people, a black man, another man with wrinkles like his grandma and oh yes, Julia, bloody Julia, who had been MIA for two months. She stared at him blankly (that would never change) while she was seemingly bored out of her mind. She was tapping her fingers on her black skirt.

N

He didn't figure out for the longest time what she was doing, until her tapping began to seem familiar.

D

,,Mr Walker, am I right?'' the black man said.

D-I

,,Sure,'' Simon replied, trying not to sound too distracted.

E-T-E

,,Are you familiar with the name Julia Thorne?'' the grandma man asked.

L-L

,,Should I be?''

,,We have proof,'' Julia said.

Of course _she_ did. She was the bloody person.

U-N-D-E

,,If you have proof she exist, agents of the US, I can make you into very rich people,'' he told them vaguely.

U-N-D-E-R-C-O-V-E-R-T-E-L-L-A-N-D-D-I-E

(Undercover. Tell and die)

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Philadelphia

Peter Morgan, head of security at APO, took a deep breath.

,,Flanagan, status report?''

,,All well, sir.''

,,Rand?''

,,All well, sir.''

,,Geller?''

,,All well, sir.''

,,Fowl?''

,,Recovering from attack on security. Will be weakened for another hour.''

,,Keep intruders away. Bateman?''

,,All well, sir.''

,,Fisher?''

,,All well, sir.''

,,Hardwick?''

,,There's a leak, sir. I have not been able to stop the flow of information,'' Hardwick said, sounding slightly panicked.

,,And I'm told of this now?''

,,Sir, the rules are that if I haven't stopped the leak in twenty-four hours, the information goes straight to the director.''

,,Your sector?''

,,The CIA branch in Los Angeles.''

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Philadelphia

Things kept getting more and more difficult.

Three years ago, when Sydney Bristow had come to his house, Kendell had heard her proposition. She was the Covenant's pet assassin, their absolute favourite. She had connections as Julia Thorne, connections she couldn't have as Sydney. In exchange for her intelligence, she wanted a pardon for the Massacre in Elisabeth's Church. He had given her Sark, trusting her to keep him in a leash.

Sydney was not okay. The torture Dr. Gregorevich had put her through and the Massacre had left her mentally ill. Sometimes she had been so out of control, Sark had had to sedate her for days, before she would calm. They had been frequent for a long while, before Sark had found a drug, which sedated her enough for her to sleep properly, but made her unable to enter REM sleep. The nightmares had been her worst problem, Sark had informed Kendell, and the drug had worked to perfection. Pandemonium was not addictive, but what it gave Sydney, the calm, was. When Sark had realised she had begun slowing on mission, he had killed the supplier and forced her through withdrawal, which she had, in the end, agreed on.

Then a year ago, MI6 agents had caught Sydney, one of them a brother to a victim of Sark's own Catholic Church massacre, hell-bent on revenge. Sark had gone into the MI6 building and had rescued her, but whatever the agents had put her through, had resulted in a miscarriage of a baby she had no idea had been there. It left her unable to have more children and she had gone into depression. She had gone through four hellish months, before Sark had found her on the brink of death in their hotel room, drugged up on Pandemonium. He once again put her through withdrawal, banning Pandemonium from their partnership. If she were to ever use it again, he would leave her to fend for herself.

Which he had done two months ago, when he had stumbled upon her new supplier by accident. No one had seen her since.

So when Kendell's head of security informed him that there was a leak in the Los Angeles office, he decided to go for himself. Mainly because he knew the people and because he hoped it might be her.

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Los Angeles

,,Director Dixon,'' one of the junior agents said, sticking her head into his office. ,,I got a message from someone called Kendell?''

,,What did he want?'' Dixon asked, looking up from his paperwork.

,,He said to tell you, he is coming, sir.''

,,When?''

,,He's requesting access.''

,,Grant it to him. I'll go meet him.''

The agent nodded and hurried off.

Dixon rose hastily from his seat and walked to Jack's desk, where the older Bristow sat almost completely white-haired from stress.

,,Kendell is here,'' he said.

Jack looked up. ,,Why?''

,,I don't know?''

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Los Angeles

Kendell entered the main room of the Task Force Centre, watching familiar and unfamiliar faces moving around, each doing their own work. Vaughn stood beside a blonde woman, the wife Lauren, Weiss had moved to Lennox's desk, where they were enjoying lunch and Dixon and Jack Bristow were both looking at him with the same mask of blankness field agents often sported.

,,If she's here, take her into custody,'' he told the six APO agents behind him.

,,You have a leak,'' he said to Dixon. ,,Shut down.''

,,Are you sure?'' the director of ten months asked.

,,Yes.''

,,I'll alert Marshall,'' Jack said, rushing off to the technician's office.

Within a minute, the computers were shut down and all Internet access had been disconnected. Dixon was busy calming the agents down, when Tim Danes' voice could be heard from across the room.

,,We have her!''

Kendell froze, not believing his luck. He and Sark had searched for her for two months and they had forgotten to look the most obvious place. The place Sydney called her home.

She was loudly shouting at the agents to let go off her. She hadn't done anything. When she came to a standstill in front of Kendell, he looked her over for potential injuries, but knew her injuries had always been more mental than physical. Her hair was brown, her original hair colour, and her clothes were the same as when they'd both worked there. She stared at him confused.

,,What's going on, Kendell? What have I done?'' she asked, her eyes big.

He raised an eyebrow.

,,You have no right…'' Dixon began.

,,Actually I do.'' Kendell scanned the crowd, looking for Danes, who'd seated himself by Vaughn's desk with his ever-present laptop. ,,Danes, get me her medical file!''

,,Yes, sir!''

,,Do you know who took me?'' Sydney asked, sounding hopeful. ,,Do you where I've been for the last three and half year?''

,,You don't?'' he asked. She must've finally lost it.

,,Someone erased her memories,'' Dixon explained. ,,She has no recollection of anything that has happened in that time period.''

,,Right,'' Kendell said disbelieving. ,,That does not change the fact that you are under arrest, miss Bristow.''

,,For what?'' Jack asked.

,,That is confidential. Find me an interrogation room.''

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Los Angeles

,,Find me a feed to the interrogation room,'' Dixon had ordered Marshall.

They were now gathered, the SD-6 team, as the previous director Paul Combs had baptised them, in Dixon's office, watching Sydney sit by herself, hunched in the chair.

Kendell entered, holding a file in his hand. He sat down across from her and folded his hands on top of the file; he'd placed on the table. ,,_Welcome back to life, I suppose_.''

Sydney huffed loudly. ,,_What am I charged with_?'' she asked.

Kendell opened the file, scanning the pages until he found the right one. ,,`_Agent Sydney A. Bristow was brought to Dr. Ethan Wilson upon arrival to CIA Joint Task Force Centre, Los Angeles, with Agent Eric H. Weiss. Agent Bristow fractured her left wrist escaping unidentified men, (possible Covenant) her collarbone has been broken recently and she is not to be reinstated to fieldwork. Blood test results showed traces of unidentified medication, possibly linked to her memory loss.´ Let's not play charades, shall we, Sydney?'' he said. ,,The medication found in your blood, is not what they use in Project Clarity. You know that better than I do. But I recognise it anyway. Pandemonium_.''

,,_What are you talking about_?'' she asked, sounding and looking completely confused.

,,_Pandemonium makes you sleep. It doesn't remove your memories. You remember everything perfectly fine. Every little detail of what happened_.''

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Los Angeles

She knew she wouldn't be able to fool him for much longer. He knew too much. He had credible proof.

The cold condescending smile of Julia Thorne creeps onto her lips. She leaned back in the chair, relaxing, letting Sydney go. She knew the transformation scared Kendell, it had shocked Sark, which was an emotion he did not know of.

,,What are you doing here?'' he asked. ,,Why did you break your own rule?''

Because Sark threw her out, told her to get herself together before even thinking about returning to the comfort of his arms, of his blue, blue eyes. Because it's easier to slip into the role of someone you've been your entire life, instead of mask of Julia, which keep getting harder and harder to put on. She just wants to be Eya, but had to settle with Sydney.

,,Because I wanted to,'' she answered vaguely and she knew he knew she's there because she didn't have anywhere else to go. ,,Because it's easier to break your own collarbone, so you don't have to go into the field and see the people, who you once considered your friends, die, because you aren't quick enough. Because I'd rather be home alone with a good fake nights sleep, instead of watching someone die and not care and then feel bad for not caring and that makes everything worse!''

,,You broke your own collarbone?'' Kendell asked, frowning.

,,No, I'm not suicidal,'' she said mockingly. ,,Most of the time anyway,'' she hurried to add. ,,The Doctor was easily bribed.''

,,Of course,'' he said, more to himself, like it was the obvious thing to do.

She knew what he was thinking. Had Gregorevich gotten to her, had that been the reason she'd fallen back on Pandemonium, the drug she knew would eventually ruin everything?

After she'd left Vaughn and Lauren with Sark two months ago, she'd gone to Munich to meet with the Covenant leaders. They welcomed her with open arms, like they always did, and ordered her to Geneva, where a scientist, working for CERN, had discovered an extremely destructive combination of particles, which he was wiling to sell to the Covenant for money and protection against government agencies. She met with the scientist, left him dead and with the weapon of destruction. She was about to deliver it to the Covenant, before remembering it was actually a weapon of _destruction_. She'd tipped off Volver's newly required contact in French Intelligence, who sent agents to Geneva to destroy the scientist's documents, before she destroyed the device holding the particles together, effectively sabotaging the mission, all in time to return to Norway to celebrate Christmas with Sark.

The reason she was back on Pandemonium had nothing to do with Gregorevich or the Covenant, but everything to do with the return of the nightmares. Maybe they had returned as a premonition for the return of Vaughn in her life? She didn't know, but they were there, back and as bad as before she'd learned to deal somewhat with them.

,,You're actually admitting to be back on Pandemonium?'' Kendell said. ,,That's more than _he_ got out of you.''

She just stared at him.

,,I'm not here to judge you. I'm sure whatever reason you had to go back here, sounded perfectly good in your head, but fact is that I need your help.''

,,Okay,'' she said and leaned forward in her chair, watching Kendell spreading four black and white pictures out on the table. She frowned.

,,Volver contacted me,'' he started. ,,Not sure how, since he shouldn't be aware of our connections.''

,,He figured it out for himself,'' she told him, throat suddenly dry, her eyes glued to the pictures.

,,Mr Sark said he would not contact Irina Derevko, unless it was a vital part of your plan.''

She felt shivers down her spine, cold and merciless. The familiar feel of betrayal was shooting around her body and clenching her heart. She couldn't breathe and the world swam before her.

,,He lied.''

She choked on her tears and finally let them fall.

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_Picture one_

_Mr Sark sat on a park bench with Empire State Building looming in the skyline behind him. Miss Derevko was standing beside him, a small smile playing on her lips. _

_Picture two_

_Mr Sark stood up, taking a briefcase from Miss Derevko._

_Picture three_

_Miss Derevko wrapped her arms around Mr Sark's neck. Mr Sark looked, starring unseeing, on a nearby man and woman._

_Picture four_

_Miss Derevko and Mr Sark were walking their separate way._

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Los Angeles

Lauren froze.

,,Oh God,'' she muttered to herself, watching Sydney break down in the interrogation room.

_Because I'd rather be home alone with a good fake nights sleep, instead of watching someone die and not care and then feel bad for not caring and that makes everything worse!_

Pandemonium. Mr Sark. Volver.

How could she not have seen the signs, the clear signs of Julia? It was so obvious, the paranoia and the emotional detachment.

Lauren still clearly remembered the horror of seeing an unconscious Michael getting his memories removed in a horrifying machine, while Mr Sark stood coolly by her side.

_,,You can keep your memories, agent Reed. I need a mole in the LA office and you are absolutely perfect for the job. I needn't remind you to keep this… experience completely off the radar.''_

She had had no choice. He'd threatened to kill her family and friends. Knowing his reputation, she knew he wasn't joking. He'd only contacted her once six weeks ago, before Sydney had showed up without memories. Lauren, though she only felt contempt for the woman her husband so obviously desired, had chosen to remain silent, not wishing Julia's life upon Sydney, who had suffered enough.

,,She remembers?'' Marshall had whispered, when Sydney's mask had slipped into a condescending smile.

,,Can't anyone of you see?'' Lauren said, startling the men, who had their eyes locked on the screen in front of them. ,,Can't you see she's been lying to you?''

Jack turned his head to stare at her and slowly the others did too.

,,What do you know?'' Dixon demanded.

She turned towards Weiss. ,,You remember back in November? Warsaw, the woman who barely left you alive?''

,,Of course I remember,'' Weiss replied, frowning.

,,That was your precious Sydney and Simon Walker, doing their jobs for the Covenant. Two days ago,'' she continued frantically, needing to explain. She moved to Marshall's computer and removed a fake pen from her dress coat, laying it on top of it. The screen flickered as a video feed opened and showed Dixon's interrogating Walker with Sydney and Michael. ,,See how Walker's eyes keep flickering to Sydney,'' she said and pointed. ,,He showed clear signs of recognition.'' She rotated the camera, so you could see Walker's back. Sydney was tapping on her skirt. ,,See what's she's tapping? Undercover, tell and die.''

,,And how on Earth would you have come to that conclusion?'' Jack asked icily.

She looked around, finding the board, where the majority of Julia Thorne's intelligence network was fastened. They had never been able to get a picture of the two 'blondes', as Walker had called them, but there were names and pictures of the lower agents. Including a picture of Kar Volver, which Jack had been lucky to get two years ago. ,,How would… Kendell know about Volver? He said Volver. Julia Thorne didn't kill Sydney. Sydney is Julia and Julia is Sydney.''

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Los Angeles

She sat as a statue; her eyes glued to the pictures, tears trailing down her cheeks. She trembled, but she didn't move from her place.

She desperately tried to compartmentalize, but somehow it only made things worse. She felt like champagne. She was in a bottle, breakable, frail, _human,_ but hard around the edges. Everything she had been through had become small bubble, which had been shaken around, Gregorevich, Pandemonium, the baby and the ultimate betrayal, Sark. Every little bubble was trying to break free and apparently this had been the end. The bottle had broken and she cried.

It hurt. Everything hurt. She needed to stop.

**Put the mask back on, Eya. **

She needed to be strong.

**Listen to Kendell, Eya.**

She didn't know until it was waved in front of her face, how much she had begun to depend on him, the loyalty he'd given her free of charge. He had given her so much. Everything they had, everything they had worked to accomplish, was being thrown in her face.

**Wipe the tears away and let the world see what you have become, Eya. **

She tried to take a deep breath, but failed. She tried again and failed. Then she put all her Bristow and Derevko willpower into the task, the task she would not fail.

She took a deep breath and succeeded.

,,Tell me what to do.''

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	5. Part Four, Chapter B

So, I got this awesome review from Ele84, who urged me and eventually I decided to post it, defying my own at-least-one-chapter-in-front-of-post policy. But my muse is beginning to appear again. So here it is, Sark POV.

Keep in mind that everything I write has a meaning. I will be writing in a new character in the next chapter that's vital to the storyline and who has a connection to something from part one.

Thanks, Ele, for being my beta. And, yes, there's a reason why Kayla's so vaguely described.

PART FOUR

Chapter B

-- A spy's life is always based on lies --

_- Two weeks into Julia's disappearance -_

Hong Kong

Sark stared at his reflection in the dark pool water, twenty-three stories over the streets of Hong Kong. The skyscraper was not impressive, but it was large and its only purpose was to be large. He was wearing black jeans – not something he did often – and a T-shirt from Lacoste. His hair had blue and black streaks and around his wrist he had several knotted leather strings. He nearly didn't recognise himself. He looked younger, not as sophisticated as usual. It was a rare look for him. Pretty young women and handsome young men were partying all around him, the techno music loud and the thumping was making his heart hurt in his chest.

Why he had taken this job was still a major mystery to him? Volver was too old to even enter the club; Eya was MIA for the second week and Raiver, Volver's second hand man, was inexperienced in the field. The job required him to dress in extremely distasteful clothes, colour his hair and listen to dreadful Chinese techno.

He was completely on his own, no back up, no Eya in his ear teasing him with promises of sexual encounters. Complete silence, so to speak. It was actually… nice. He'd done jobs alone over the past three years, but it was different. There was no back up now. She would not come to his aid. He was completely dependent on his own abilities now.

And there were the cars here, fast adrenalin inducing cars. Eya had her Pandemonium; he had his adrenalin. He loved the feeling coursing through his veins, the adrenalin of a kill, the adrenalin of the chase, of the torture, of the women, of the cars, of the intoxicating feeling of living on the edge, of taking risks. That was why he still lived. He allowed himself to get addicted to the one thing that cost him nothing and that allowed him to still be alive. Irina had taught him the advantages of the adrenalin, but even she didn't understand to use it the way he did.

This was why he still lived…

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Hong Kong

While impressing some girls with his Cantonese, Sark's eyes followed the movements of Yuinjin Kwon, a Korean woman with pissed off enemies, through the many moving young bodies. She was nineteen, but the owner of Kwon Logistics, which she had gotten when her father passed away. She had refused to let the Board find a new Director and had taken the role on herself. The Board was not happy with her decision. No matter how well she was handling the job.

It was not, however, Sark's place to question the insanity of the Board. One of the members was Yakuza and an important benefactor of the Covenant. Sark got his money and the Covenant was happy.

Yuinjin disappeared into a backroom with two other girls. Sark excused himself from the girls with a wink of his blue eyes and followed her into the room. Her guards saw nothing. To them, he was just one of the hundred nationalities Yuinjin had invited to her party.

The three girls were alone in the giant room, which looked to be a make-up salon.

,,Hey,'' one of the girls said in Cantonese.. ,,You're not supposed to be here.''

Sark put the deer-caught-in-the-headlight look on. ,,I'm sorry,'' he said in German accented English. ,,I did not know. I am sorry.''

The girls rolled their eyes.

,,He's hot,'' Yuinjin commented in Korean, a language his vocabulary was extremely sparse off.

The two other girls giggled and turned away from him. It was their mistake. Yuinjin should have known better. But she was still nineteen after all. It was all right to be naïve when you were anyone but himself. He had been sniping for Irina at nineteen. He had never been allowed to be naïve.

He took the gun from the waistband of his jeans, the silencer from his pocket, quickly put them together and shot first the two girls and last Yuinjin, who died with a scream on her lips and horror in her eyes. It didn't take him long to get over the fact he had shot a nineteen year old girl, who had her whole life in front of her. Others would be sad by her passing. He was not.

As he calmly took the lift away from the party, he allowed himself to think of Sydney. She would have been devastated if she had seen him assassinate a girl. It brought a smile to his face. Julia wouldn't have cared. It really was amazing what seven months of torture and the destruction of a church could do to someone's mental health.

Of course, why hadn't he thought of it sooner? If she had trouble with her identity, if Julia was fading, going back to play a person you had been most of your life must have been easier than playing a still somewhat undeveloped character.

If he was right, she might be in Los Angeles.

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Los Angeles

,,That is beautiful, darling. You should buy it,'' Clara said.

Lauren smiled at her friend and looked back down at the dress she was considering buying. It was a clear day for a February shopping spree. Michael had been working overtime yet again and Lauren had been tired of being alone, worrying if Sark might contact her or Michael would get hurt or Sydney had sought him out. She had called up an old friend from England and had begged her to come visit her. Clara had come.

,,You know, I will,'' Lauren stated. ,,It has more colours than what I usually wear. I absolutely love it.''

,,Perfect,'' Clara said smiling. ,,Michael will look like a fish and have the vocabulary of a one year old.''

,,Are you implying my husband is a caveman?'' Lauren teased.

Before Clara could retort, a sales woman came up to Lauren. ,,Lauren Reed?''

,,Yes?'' she replied.

,,Your cousin Lucas Heléntay is calling you. He's waiting on the phone right over there.''

Lauren felt her heartbeat pick up speed. It was his cover name, Sark's.

_No matter where you are or what you are doing, you will answer my call._

So she did. She excused herself from Clara and followed the woman to the phone.

,,Hallo?''

_,,Ask why you are calling me.''_

,,Why are you calling me?''

,,_Has anything changed at the JTFC since Norway? If no, say I didn't know you where in LA. If yes, smile at your hands and say you need to stop fooling around.''_

,,I didn't know you were in LA.'' She shifted the handle into the other hand. It was getting slippery.

,,_Has Sydney Bristow returned? Answer yes or no.''_

Her eyes widened, but she hid it by looking out of the window instead of on Clara. ,,No.''

,,_Enjoy your shopping spree, Mrs Vaughn. The dress is beautiful, by the way,''_ he said and ended the call.

She sucked in her breath. Suddenly the dress didn't seem too appealing after all.

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Marseilles, France

_- Three weeks later -_

_Assassination attempt on Kalona Flint (Affiliation: _Covenant, Helsinki division)_: _Failed_. Current Status: _Countermeasures taken_. Overlooked by Mr S. Signed by KV. _

,,Martina Vech, the weapon dealer,'' Sark asked. ,,What is our status on her?''

,,She was found death last month, sir. Hushovd's, Miss Thorne's freelance assassin, mark was on her. Whether he was working for her is still unclear,'' Volver replied, talking from memory.

,,You haven't heard from her, have you?'' Sark stated, taking a new folder from a table behind him.

The slightly older man stopped what he was doing and looked up at his employer. ,,No, sir. The flow of information, she sends us, are over an untraceable server. The Covenant gave it to her to use, as she liked. I have no idea how to trace it or how to find her. I'm sorry, sir.''

Sark breathed out and crooked his lips. ,,I asked her to leave, Volver. She was doing Pandemonium again and I told her to leave.''

Volver frowned. ,,I didn't know,'' he said. ,,I thought you had a lovers quarrel, which ended in her leaving. I had no idea she was back on drugs.''

,,Contact Hushovd,'' Sark said, getting away from the subject. ,,I want to talk to him.''

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Marseilles

,,Gabriel?''

Sark turned around, seeing Kayla, Kar Volver's beautiful sister, coming towards him. He had been staying in Marseilles for two weeks at Volver's château, where they were conducting business through freelancers. Ever since the job in Hong Kong, Sark had decided to leave the excitement of a job done by his own hands to others. The thrill had gone away. He could no longer feel it. The Hong Kong job had done wonders for him, but it left him without the promise of meeting Eya and he found it was not what he wanted anymore. He wanted her back.

Kayla was a nice distraction and the warmth of her bed made him sleep just that much longer each morning.

Volver outright hated Kayla's fascination with him and always told him in no uncertain words to stay away from her. Sark never listened. He was well aware she was a security risk, but she knew him only as Gabriel, her big brother's extremely wealthy and influential boss, and Eya as Michelle, his playful and just as influential partner slash unfaithful girlfriend. He trusted Volver to keep her away from their shadow world and keep her in the light. She was a fantastic artist, who sang, danced and designed clothes worn by many of her friends and even Eya from time to time. She did what her brother told her to do and never questioned and therefore Sark knew, without a doubt, he could still continue his thrusts with her and have Volver's unwavering trust.

,,Yes?''

,,Come sit with me while I play the piano,'' she said, giving him a big toothy smile and reaching out to touch his arm.

,,I have work, Kayla,'' he told her.

,,You get up before six every morning, train, work with my brother for hours, train in the pool, works some more, go out for two hours every night to God's know where and goes to bed at midnight. You can afford to sit with me for an hour,'' she said matter-of-factly.

It did sound appealing.

Back when Sydney Bristow was working for the CIA as a double agent at SD-6, he had offered her work. If she had been the least bit interested, he would have told her; she would have to do no paperwork. And it had been true at the time. Irina had done the majority herself and fact was, if you were a freelancer, not much thinking had to go behind it. But running an organisation with mutable people working under you, assassins, mercenaries, informants, accountants, security, forced you to keep a record.

The recent turmoil of Norway, the anniversary of the second Catholic Church massacre and Eya's rapidly failing mental health had left little time to do any paperwork. He had set himself up to get all of it done in a matter of three weeks and then he would set about seriously finding out where on Earth Eya had hidden herself. Kendell would manage enough meanwhile.

,,Sure,'' he told her.

She let him through the high hallways of the château, into rooms with antique furniture worth too much money. Kayla cherished the old design of the Kings and Queens before the revolution. Mixed in with newer and simple things, Sark had rarely seen a place more beautiful.

The old wooden piano stood proud alone in the old banqueting hall. They sat down on the chair and Kayla let her long fingers travel over the white keys, playing a piece he could not remember the name of. He watched her fingers, memorising the movements. Not long after he played the piece himself to perfection.

Kayla stared at him in wonder. ,,You are a man full of surprises,'' she stated.

He didn't answer.

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Marseilles

Dominic Raiver opened the car for Mr Sark, who instantly buttoned up his fancy grey suit jacket. He followed his boss into the deserted warehouse.

Hushovd, a red-haired, large and well-muscled Norwegian man, was already waiting inside. He looked up when he heard others approach and walked towards Mr Sark.

,,Hushovd,'' Mr Sark greeted.

,,Mr Sark,'' Hushovd replied in acknowledgement. ,,I trust there is a purpose to this meeting? Preferably with promise of cold hard cash in the end?''

,,Martina Vech. Why did you kill her?''

Hushovd actually rolled his eyes. Raiver was surprised. No one did that in front of Sark.

,,For cash, Mr Sark. What else is life all about? Cash, girls and rock 'n' roll, right?'' Hushovd said. ,,Jules actually. She called me, totally abandoning the usual contact protocol. She pays right, so why should I complain.''

,,And she did not ask you to keep quiet about it?'' Mr Said questioned. ,,She wanted me to know, didn't she?''

The Norwegian shrugged. ,,I stopped trying to get her the day I met her.''

,,Next time she calls, you call me first. Understood?''

,,Sure.''

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Marseilles

_- Before the leak is discovered by APO -_

,,_It would be simpler if we met face to face, Imperial_,'' Kendell said over the phone. ,,_We have worked together for over three years_.''

,,I'm holding my end of the bargain. I see no reason for us to meet,'' Sark replied, folding his hands on the table. ,,We exchange Intel over untraceable communication devices. It cannot be anymore secure than this.''

,,_Fine, you win. What do you have_?''

,,I have started looking at the only organisation who does under no circumstances wish to corporate with me.''

,,_The Black Priests?_''

,,Yes. It's obvious really. There is no chance they would rat her out to any of my people.''

_,,I can see the logic in that,''_ Kendell said. ,,_Volver has connections to McKenzie, the Scandinavian cell leader. Can't he get some information?'''_

,,He tried. McKenzie's refuses to say anything regarding Julia, which leads me to believe she is in fact hiding with the Priests.''

,,_I can have Agent Grace and Gibson infiltrate McKenzie's network.''_

,,Take Canarh instead of Gibson. She doesn't have enough field experience for my liking.''

,,_Rachel Gibson is a perfectly cable agent, Imperial.''_

,,That was my professional opinion, Fixer. Take it or leave it. I'll be in contact.''

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	6. Part Four, Chapter C

I don't know if they send out an alert if you revamp a chapter, but chapter B is there, meaning you should go back and read that one first if you haven't already discovered it.

I'm horrible at updating; so don't expect a weekly update. I'll perfect my stuff many times before I post it. I've also gone back and revamped Part One and since my English has improved since I moved to America, I edited a lot of errors.

Love to my beta, Ele whose sometimes completely wrong assumptions keep me happy because that's not even close to what I've been planning. Thank you.

Now, the show must go on…

--

PART FOUR

Chapter C

-- A spy's life is always based on lies --

_- Present time -_

Los Angeles

_Tell me what to do._

Kendell stared at the woman in front of him. Her mascara was running down her swollen cheeks, her knuckles white from clenching themselves and brown hair in disarray. She looked weak, but not nearly as unhealthy as the time she'd shown up at his doorstep, still reeling from the post-traumatic stress of the Church massacre.

,,He violated your trust. He told you he would loosen all ties with Irina. He didn't,'' he said calmly, voice unwavering.

,,When are they from? The pictures?'' she asked, looking at the one where Irina and Sark were hugging.

,,Three weeks after New Year,'' he replied. ,,I didn't tell you before…''

,,Don't explain yourself, Kendell. I have them now.'' She bent her head down and blew to the picture fall. It landed on the floor and the rest were swept down afterwards.

He smiled. ,,He refuses to meet with me face to face. I can't take him into custody and I don't know how to contact Volver. You need to help catch him.''

She didn't say anything for the longest time. Her eyes darted around the room, on everything except his face. ,,I can't.''

That hadn't been the answer he had expected. She was vengeful by nature. Her response didn't make any sense, especially since she'd just begged him to tell her what to do.

,,My Pandemonium intake levels the one before I detoxed the last time. It has doubled since… he'll know instantly. I can't do it. Don't ask me to do it,'' she said.

Kendell folded his hands on the table and leaned forward in his seat. ,,I'm not asking you, Sydney, I'm telling you.''

Her handcuffs rattled when she angrily tore into them. ,,Sydney is death. Sydney is a lie I'm telling so I can have some resemblance of peace of mind. Sydney is easy and good and righteous and everything Julia cannot be. Everything I can't be… anymore.''

,,I don't believe that.''

Suddenly, she laughed. It was a cold and humourless laugh, making goose bumps rise on his arms. ,,I'm out for revenge. I will make Gregorevich burn, until he's begging me to kill him and I will. I'll rip him open and slice his insides to pieces. But the best way to do that… is letting Sark help me rise to power.'' She looked him straight into his eyes. ,,I wont rat him out, honey, because he's mine and you can't have him.''

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Los Angeles

What would your reaction be; if someone you knew and trusted wasn't that person at all?

Would you scream?

Would you faint?

Would you stare, not understanding?

Ask yourself what Jack's reaction would be? His daughter… his only daughter… the only daughter he had… the one he loved… How would you react?

Ask yourself what Vaughn's reaction would be? The woman he loved since she strode into his office at the CIA with bozo red hair and blood running from her lips. The passionate and beautiful woman, who managed to stay sane through SD-6 and everything that came after, was letting her walls fall away around what she was hiding. And you know, he should be able to remember what happened in Norway, but he doesn't. His wife does. How would you react if your wife told you she remembered what happened the four days you lost time?

The woman he loved was not the woman he loved. Not anymore. Ask yourself how you would react?

You can feel it, can't you? Feel for Vaughn, who did nothing but love her. Feel for Jack, who did nothing but love her. Feel for Weiss, who did nothing but love her. Feel for Dixon, who did nothing but love her. Feel for Marshall, who did nothing but love her.

_It's an eye-opener, isn't it?_

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A/N: This little part was something I needed to do. I felt like I'd done the whole feeling the discovering of Sydney being evil in Part Two and Three and it needed to be something different. So that was it.

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Los Angeles

,,You knew?'' Vaughn asked, his low voice breaking Lauren's heart.

She closed her eyes. ,,Yes,'' she replied, hating her voice for shaking.

,,You bitch!'' Jack roared and rose from his chair.

She stumbled back, afraid of his temper.

,,Jack!'' Dixon said sternly. ,,Calm down. You better make this worthwhile, Lauren.''

,,My parents Christmas banquet in Norway,'' she started. She looked around at the attentive faces sitting before her. Most of them were angry, even Marshall's. ,,Sark was there. He showed up out of nowhere and told us to come with him or we were going to die. There where people after us, so we ran to the top of the building, while Sark fought off the attackers. We were trapped on the top, but suddenly _she _showed up… her… Julia or Sydney or whatever… and shot the man unconscious. He was _no_ threat to her, but still he died by her hands in cold blood. And so Sark drove us through Norway until Sydney suddenly threw herself out of the car. She was sleepwalking towards a cliff. She was going to jump, but he stopped her and she drugged herself willingly. She slept through the first night at the cabin in Sark's bed. The cabin was their home or a shelter or just a place to crash, we never really figured it out. They were intimate, not just lovers or people working together. They _knew _each other. There was something about cooking. Sark said Francie and… Alison could cook, but not Sydney?''

,,Sound right,'' Weiss muttered.

,,The ones who attacked you,'' Dixon said. ,,Who were they?''

,,The Black Priests,'' she replied.

,,The assembly of fanatical church goers?'' Marshall butted in.

,,Yes,'' she nodded. ,,It was a test of loyalty. The Covenant was testing her through the Priests. We were the bait.''

,,What happened then?'' Vaughn asked.

,,Nothing really. She had been called away to Munich to meet with the Covenant leaders and Sark was taking necessary countermeasures. He put Michael through this project… Project Clarity, and kept me as an informant. He has only called once and that was to hear if Sydney had come back, which she hadn't at that point. And that was it. That is the only thing I know.'' Lauren looked and saw anger tainted with confusion and pain. They didn't know what to think.

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Los Angeles

,,You're being difficult on purpose, aren't you?'' Kendell said, flashing a smile at her.

She smirked in return and looked away.

He rose from his chair, gave one last nod towards her and walked out of the interrogation room. She wouldn't rat Sark out that much Kendell knew. He suited her needs too much. He needed to find an alternative way to meet with Sark.

He stared around the large room of the Joint Task Force Centre, the place he'd commanded before her. His agents stared back, uncertain of what to do. Danes was the only one who knew the significance of keeping Sydney's status a secret and was probably already taking necessary countermeasures.

Finally coming to a somewhat thought through solution, he walked towards Dixon's office. It was time to bring in new blood.

,,Kept me as an informant. He has only called once and that was to hear if Sydney had come back, which she hadn't at that point. And that was it. That is the only thing I know.'' He heard the last of Lauren's explanation and wasn't as surprised as he should have been. It would make sense to keep Lauren as an informant. He didn't know the specifics of Norway, only that it had happened and Sark had it under control. Unfortunately, she was talking now.

,,You should watch what you are saying, agent Reed,'' he said, surprising them all. ,,You will pay sometime or other.''

,,Kendell,'' Jack snarled.

,,I think it's time I tell you a little about what's going on. Sydney refuses to cooperate, so I need help somewhere else and you, my friends, are the best shot,'' he told them. ,,I have been Sydney's handler since she came to me three years ago. She's a sleeper agent for the US government. It means her goal is to bring down the people responsible for her condition…''

,,Condition?'' Weiss said.

,,Unfortunately, she has too much power inside the Covenant to want to take them down. She refuses to tell us who the leaders are. Sark isn't much better. He's driving an organisation on her name and status as the Covenant's pet assassin. It works well for them and anyone else. They've become too well adjusted to each other for me to have much to say in her decisions. I thought with Sark's betrayal, she would be furious enough to rat him out. I was obviously wrong.''

,,Obviously,'' Vaughn muttered.

Kendell fought the urge to roll his eyes. ,,I'm asking you to find him. With Sydney unable to warn him; it's the time to strike.'' He paused, looking at each of the people in turn. ,,Please,'' he added.

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Los Angeles

Dixon's orders had been simple. They were to use the conference room with maximum security to handle Sydney's case. Meanwhile, he would be telling the rest of his agent; Sydney had been accused of leaking Intel to her 'brainwashers', but those accusations were invalid and the SD-6 team would do anything in their power to cleanse her name. She would be placed in the cell with Simon Walker, first; because they had nowhere else to put her and second; Marshall was monitoring the cell by himself.

Vaughn insisted to help Tim Danes bring her in to the cell, though he still didn't really know why? Did he want to see for herself the frightening coldness in her eyes, he and others had only vaguely seen on the computer screen, the coldness that was legendary? Playful detachment. It was the way she was described, Julia Thorne. He shuddered.

She sat hunched in the chair, the handcuff keeping her from sitting in many other ways. She looked up when the two men entered and her left eyebrow rose, which made her look extremely curious. But Vaughn could see the coldness behind the curiousness. It reminded him too much of Sark for his liking.

,,What's Kendell doing with me?'' she asked, as Danes closed a new set of handcuffs over her wrists and opened the one on the chair.

,,You're being held in Walker's cell until further notice,'' Danes replied, rising her up.

,,Somehow I don't believe that particular order came from Dixon,'' she commented casually.

,,No, it was Kendell's idea,'' Vaughn said, speaking up for the first time. He was supposed to take her arm, with Danes on the other side, and escort her towards the glass cells, but he couldn't get himself to touch her. If Lauren's words were true… which they seemed to be… well, he didn't know how to react. Still somehow the shock of her betrayal seemed old, like it was some ancient feeling he'd experienced before. Like skiing, for example. If you learned how to do it when you were ten, you will still be able to remember the feeling of what to do twenty years later, like it was part of some forgotten memory. Later you will wonder how you kept them straight and didn't get your legs mingled into each other, but skiing is something you just remember, but don't.

,,At least I'll have Si to keep me company,'' she told the two men in a matter-of-fact voice.

Vaughn frowned, finally acknowledging they'd all been played. Sydney had stood right in front of Walker and Walker had said nothing. Maybe she really had so much power as Kendell said? ,,So you do know him?'' he said.

,,Of course,'' she answered. ,,He was my partner.''

He sighed and finally took a good hold on her arm.

,,When we come into the rotunda, you hold your head high and keep your eyes warm,'' Danes ordered her. ,,You _are_ Sydney Bristow.''

,,I used to be,'' she muttered, but did as she was told.

People stared; Vaughn could feel their eyes on them. He could feel their questions; his own was still unanswered. But what could he do? Sydney wasn't talking. None of Kendell's men were talking. Jack was probably going even more insane than him.

He was standing, both hands clasped on his back, in front of the cage doors, waiting for his daughter. He looked grim and miserable, but still determined.

,,You need to help me,'' she said, her voice strong. She asked her father for help, because that was what Sydney did. It was expected of her.

Jack didn't answer; only lead the two men and prisoner in between them towards the glass cell, where Simon Walker would be.

As expected, Walker had heard them coming and had risen from his seat on the cot. He looked on with a slight frown when she came into his view. Her features had slipped back into the cold detachment and had lost all the warmth Sydney was so well known for.

,,Walk away from the door, Walker,'' Jack ordered sharply. The door into the cell was opened automatically and Sydney was pushed inside. She stumbled slightly, not catching her bearings quickly enough. A side affect of the drug, Pandemonium, Vaughn supposed.

Her hands were freed without a word and the cell was closed off. Walker stared at her. She looked at Jack, watching him like a scientist, trying to decipher his face.

,,You should have come to me,'' he said silently, his nostrils flaring with anger.

,,But I didn't,'' she replied, fixing him with a cruel smile, and turned around, away from her own damn father. Oh, the nerve. Sydney Bristow… no, Julia Thorne had just turned away from her own flesh and blood, the one person who would die for her no matter what.

,,What's going on?'' Walker asked.

,,Shut up, Si,'' she said, staring fixedly at the cot.

He frowned at her for a second before he shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the cot again. ,,Missed you too, Jules.''

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Krakow, Poland

Dr Gregorevich stared down at his beautiful creation, a nineteen-year-old girl. She was the daughter of a world famous terrorist from Al-Qaeda from the middle-east country Syria. The father had brought her to him himself and paid handsomely for her to be put together. Who was he, Dr Gregorevich - maker of Julia Thorne, the unbreakable – to object? The girl had proven easy to break, but forming her had seemed near impossible after six months. Nothing seemed to stick in her mind. She had woken up every morning with a clean slate. She would open her eyes, because it was a natural reaction, and just lie in the bed.

The father had pure lust in his eyes when they swept over the shell of his beautiful daughter. Gregorevich had learned not to react on the bizarreness of his clients. It would only get him killed and death was not part of his plan at the moment.

,,I call her Sacra,'' he told his wealthy client.

The terrorist nodded approvingly. ,,You did an excellent job, Doctor,'' he said in Arabic. ,,Fifteen million dollars will be transferred to an account of your choosing.''

,,I will send my men in. You must excuse me for my rashness, but I am afraid I have another appointment,'' Gregorevich, who had never spoken Arabic well, replied in a heavily accented English.

,,Of course. Do not let me hold you back.''

After exchanging the customary farewell, the white-haired Doctor made his way out of the warehouse where the meeting had been held. He was a little sorry to see Sacra go; she had been a good and silent companion, who happened to be a perfectly good shooter. It was sad to see such talent go to waste in the hands of the old-fashioned customs of her country, but he always delivered and he would not stop now, just because he had found a perfect bodyguard.

Today, however, he did not sit alone in the car. He nodded to Kar Volver, who stared at him coolly in return. Volver had the protection of Mr Sark and Julia, meaning he could behave however he saw fit. He apparently held no respect for the man who had brought him and Julia together in the first place.

,,Mr Volver,'' Gregorevich greeted.

,,Doctor,'' Volver replied in return.

,,This visit is… to say the least, very surprising,'' Gregorevich said smoothly. ,,I had the impression you were avoiding Krakow and its beautiful culture.'' (Your bosses are avoiding me.)

,,With Miss Thorne's disappearance, the work load have doubled,'' the security guard said. (Bad excuse)

Everything was a riddle they both understood. It was a constant contest no one would ever win, because so were the ways of the sin side of the 'war'. If anyone dared to say anything clear and completely trustful, they were teased and ridiculed. They had the government agent for truthful and reliable agents.

,,Yes, of course,'' Gregorevich nodded in understanding, but inwardly contemplating what on Earth Volver would do in his presence again, especially after what happened to his baby sister.

,,Mr Sark is worried, and I must say even I am worried, that Miss Thorne's mental health is bordering schizophrenia. We have a few signs pointing clearly she has been growing steadily worse over the course of time she has been gone,'' Volver told and the Doctor narrowed his eyes. ,,I am coming to you for help without Mr Sark's knowledge and I sincerely hope you will not betray me.''

,,She is schizophrenic?''

Volver nodded.

She was literally falling apart, Gregorevich analysed. Her personality, Julia Thorne, a fake but well built character, was crumbling: leaving her as a half-person who had no idea what was going with her or whose memories were flooding around in her mind. That was extraordinarily bad. If he lost her to the CIA, if she began leaking Intel to her old employer; he was doomed. The Covenant would not tolerate her returning to Sydney Bristow's life.

,,Has she been under a lot of emotional distress lately, Mr Volver?'' he asked, furrowing his eyes.

,,Why?''

,,Emotional distress could bring forth depressed memories of similar hurt. If she has been hurt before, it leaves a ghost of an imprint and her body and mind would be able to identify the pain. It could make her change between her old personality and new personality, thereby making her seem schizophrenic.''

,,I don't understand, her old and new personality?''

,,Julia is the biological daughter of Irina Derevko, otherwise known as the Man,'' Gregorevich told him, deciding to do whatever it took to keep his precious life-line alive and brainwashed.

,,But that is Bristow…'' Volver argued.

,,Julia Thorne and Sydney Bristow are the same person. I created Julia for the Covenant and she has not been disappointing. Bristow was, however, extremely strong-minded and she needs continually new… improvements to keep her blissfully unaware of her old life,'' the doctor said. ,,There is a man who I often use to set people straight with. He was only a guard four years ago when Julia went through Project Novus (New) and he completed her combat training before you where introduced to her. I think discipline is the only cure for her now.''

,,How do I get to him?''

,,His contact protocol is rather easy…''

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Marseilles

It all made sense now. Volver had not seen Dr. Gregorevich revelation coming. He didn't even think it was possible to actually brainwash someone into being another person completely. Alter some aspects of one's personality, sure, but not completely new personas with quirks and habits as Miss Thorne had. He wondered if Mr Sark also had been one of the dear Doctor's patients or if he just was as enigmatic as everyone thought him to be?

Kar Volver was a smart intelligent man who had lived his whole life in the shadows of those he served. They would pay handsomely for his special skills, but everything had changed when the Doctor, through the Covenant, had employed him and he had met the beautiful woman Julia Thorne. He had never known exactly what the good doctor's speciality was, but assumed it was some kind of torture created to form agents into perfect killer machines, machines like Miss Thorne and Mr Sark. He instantly shifted his loyalty from the Covenant to them, because he saw their potential and knew they could be so much. Their intelligence, quick wit, different areas of expertise and similar look on life made them the perfect partners, completing each other not even married couples, who had been married for fifty years, managed to do. It had taken a long time to connect the dots and learn they were working behind the Covenant's back and alongside a man, Kendell, who had been working for the Central Intelligence Agency for almost twenty-five years. Whatever they had planned, Volver did not question them. They had been right on so many occasions that he had stopped questioning their decisions.

He stopped the silver BMW in the garage, cutting off the engine beside Kayla's red Mini Cooper and looked around, loving the feeling of being home. Château de Burleigh had been in his family's possession since the Aristocrats were driven out with the France because of the revolution. It was his home, his and Kayla's and it hopefully would continue to be so for many years. He was not unlike Miss Thorne and Mr Sark in every way, his anarchistic view of the world would never change, but his love for material possessions had gotten him in trouble many times. He did not know how they did it, living with nothing they could claim their own, nothing, but maybe the cabin in Norway, which he would spend hours deleting all evidence off afterwards.

But that was not the issue at the moment. Finding Miss Thorne was critical to their operation and, yes, her health. Maybe Mr Sark acted like he did not care for her, but Volver's life would suddenly become a wee bit more boring without them there to keep him busy.

He found his employer in his sister's bed, looking severely underdressed for someone who was taking refugee in her brother's home. Volver shrugged at Mr Sark's antics, knowing without a doubt he was already awake and hyperaware of every little thing.

,,It's me,'' he said quietly. ,,Where's Kayla?''

,,I have absolutely no idea.'' Mr Sark replied, gruffly turning onto his back and staring at Volver with his surprisingly blue and intelligent eyes.

,,I've gone to the Covenant for help. They are infiltrating the Black Priests, the Scandinavian cell in particular. If she is there, they will find her.''

Mr Sark said nothing; Volver had not expected him to. It was a wise move; one the assassin should have come up with. He knew when he had been outsmarted, though, and never took credit for Volver's intelligent and often life-saving decisions, something Volver found extremely well. It meant he was being trusted completely and his loyalty was considered to be unquestionable, which he of course was.

,,I have an early meeting,'' Mr Sark said after a moment of silence. ,,Go to sleep, Mr Volver.''

ALIASALIASALIASALIASALIASALIASALIASALIASALIASALIAS

One more chapter of part4. so long my readers. read and review


	7. Part Four, Chapter D

Especially for my wonderful beta, Ele, who catches all my error when I don't see them and who is not afraid to tell me what she thinks of my little experiments. I am grateful for you, even if you try to push your car into my story. I wasn't going to put it in because I haven't done it before, but because it was a _147_ Alfa Romeo… well I found it oddly fitting to our little Alias universe.

This chapter marks the end of part four. The conclusion, part five, is well on its way, but I must say I've been slacking on writing on the main story. I have this little pet project called **Eya: Pandemonium**, where I try to explain what exactly Pandemonium is and why it's such a big problem. It's set before part two and I would suggest you read it to learn about Quincy and why exactly she wants to see Sark dead so bad.

--

PART FOUR

Chapter D

-- A spy's life is always based on lies --

_- Meanwhile -_

Los Angeles

Day One

2300 hours

She was ignoring him, Simon, probably driving him crazy. He was a curious person and her sitting there very silent, only hours before having stood outside would soon drive him to speak. She didn't mind him, often finding his personality refreshing beside Sark's more morbid sarcasm, but after longer periods of time, he would drive her insane. His affection (love) for her was not something she knew what to do about.

**Can you blame the poor lad, Eya? You have bewitched him.**

The voice in her head kept talking to her the longer she was away from her drugs. It had been twelve hours already. In between coming in late from Lennox's place the night before, being captured by Kendell's men, the nerve-wrecking interrogation and sitting in the cell for eight hours she hadn't exactly had the time for Pandemonium.

She liked the voice, Sark's clipped and accented voice had stirred up feelings of safety, but she knew it was only the first stage. There were more to come, oh so many more to come.

**You must stay calm, Eya. Wait for a way out.**

She knew that, of course, and mentally slapped the voice for stating something she already knew.

They both looked up when they heard the bars open up out of sight. She smiled, wondering who of her so-called friends would show up, but was disappointed.

Lauren Reed stopped in front of the cell, head held high and hands clasped tightly behind her back. ,,When you were apprehended, I looked at the footage of Mr Walker's interrogation once again and found your hidden warning, 'Sydney','' she said, spitting out the name Sydney. ,,You're the leak. You're the one trying to frame me for it.''

The woman, who had once gone by the name of Sydney, stood up slowly from her sitting position on the cot. She remembered Mrs Vaughn's scared eyes in Norway, remembered the sick feeling of pleasure shooting through her veins. She had power in the real world, whereas here… well, she still had power, but it was different because she was behind glass walls and Lauren was not. Lauren was feeling secure with Marshall's cameras trained on them.

**Mock her, Eya.**

,,Was it working?'' she mocked Michael Vaughn's wife.

Lauren looked stunned. ,,That is entirely beside the point.''

,,Everyone has been preoccupied with Sydney Bristow's return, they forgot I might be a danger, a risk. But no one fools Nancy Drew, the NSC agent. Good thing you are here to save the day, Lauren. What would the CIA do without you?''

Lauren stepped towards the glass, anger blazing in her grey eyes. ,,I think you need to remind yourself who is standing outside the cell and who is inside.''

Brown eyes with insanity written all over them clashed with grey angry eyes. She didn't smile; no she smirked. ,,I have diplomatic immunity. Get over yourself. You're not that special.''

--

Los Angeles

Day One

2330 hours

Dixon stormed into Kendell's temporary office, closely followed by Jack and Kendell and Danes looked up at the sudden intrusion.

,,Gentlemen?'' Kendell said, eyebrows disappearing in his non-existing hairline.

,,When you asked us to help you, did it just slip your mind to tell us Sydney has diplomatic immunity?'' Dixon asked angrily.

,,How would you have come to that conclusion?''

,,She told Lauren with Walker right beside her.''

Kendell straightened up.

,,Phoenix has diplomatic immunity?'' Danes muttered in surprise.

,,Close the door,'' Kendell ordered. ,,Officially no.''

,,And unofficially?'' Jack asked.

,,Julia Thorne is many things unofficially. When she showed up at my house seven months after having died, we discussed her options as a covert operative. Her morality hadn't been screwed up as bad as it is now and we both knew she would never be able to return to being Sydney Bristow without some sort of immunity. I used to be Secret Service, meaning I have contacts in the White House. The President agreed to meet me in person. I told him her story, all the terrible details, and her demands. She'd been tainted enough to see money in every situation. Julia Thorne was granted diplomatic immunity as she was supposedly born in Russia. She's still here because she hasn't demanded to get out. You think about that,'' Kendell finished and went back to his and Danes' work, leaving the two men, father and brother-in-combat to look stupidly at him.

--

Los Angeles

Day Two

0415 hours

**Wake up, Eya. **

_She looked through the keyhole in the old oak tree door, towering over her with decorations from the time of the Anglo-Saxons. _

_She saw a woman, head held high, walking slowly across the stone floor, her heels making a periodic rhythm, tip tap tip tap… Blonde hair flowing in the non-existing wind, but it seemed to be carried by the Holy Psalms of the Catholic Church, written by believers for other believers. She was like an angel. But she knew better than anyone who the woman was. Herself… _

**No time for sleeping today, Eya.**

_The woman sat down beside Jane and she tore her eyes away, stumbling away from the door, because she remembered what had happened_ _after the 'meeting', the one last piece of innocence destroyed because of… of… money? _

**It is your own fault, Eya.**

She gasped, feeling stabs of pain in her lower abdomen. She clutched the sheets in her hands and gritted her teeth. It was too much. The pain was too much!

**Do you not understand that you will hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt, Eya?**

,,No,'' she whispered. ,,Don't hurt me.''

--

Los Angeles

Day Two

0415 hours

The first indication of something being wrong was Sydney's restless sleep. Marshall, who had been dozing on his nightshift, jolted awake, finally seeing something interesting. After the very confusing debrief from Dixon, telling them Sydney had diplomatic immunity, she had become this new person. She was no longer Sydney, she was simply too… too cruel to be Sydney.

Marshall didn't know what to think of anything anymore. If she had been destroyed, if her mind had been destroyed, what hope of survival did anyone have anymore? He was loath to admit it, but he was a Rambaldi believer. Yes, he was a scientist, but he had simply seen too much not to think something was right about what the crazy prophet was talking about. If Sydney was the Chosen One, the one to bring the world into hell, well… Rambaldi had been known to be right before.

,,Lennox?'' he said tentatively.

The dark-haired agent was sleeping peacefully but awkwardly in a chair in Marshall's office and had been at the exact same thing for many hours. At Marshall's words he jolted awake and nearly feel from the chair. ,,Yeah?'' he replied groggily.

,,Something is wrong,'' Marshall said and pointed at the TV-monitor, showing the inside of Walker and Sydney's glass cell.

Lennox looked over and his brows furrowed. Walker was standing over Sydney, face contorted into a concerned look. She was twisting and turning on the cot, going between muttering under her breathe and cry out in pain. ,,She's never done that before'' Lennox muttered.

Marshall looked at him. Did Lennox know how she slept? ,,Oh…'' he said instead of asking the question.

Lennox looked at the technician helplessly and shrugged. ,,Mr Bristow had me following her,'' he said. ,,She was with hopelessly flattered men every other night until she figured out I'd been tailing her. Since then, she preferred me.''

,,Didn't need to know that,'' Marshall muttered and flickered his eyes back to the screen worriedly.

--

Somewhere deep inside her, she knew she couldn't let the nightmares take over what was left of her rational mind, but it seemed near impossible with Sark's familiar and soothing voice telling her she would hurt and she knew she would be, because that was what happened every time she tried to get out, it kept drawing her back in, every time and she couldn't do anything and her daddy couldn't do anything and no one could do anything and she needed peace and quiet and someone to hold her or maybe to knock her unconscious so she could have a little peace of mind for just a little while, because that was all she really craved and then more Pandemonium for it kept the horrible pain and the horrible pictures at bay and oh God…

--

Jack was sitting calmly by his desk when Marshall frantically ran through the room and into the place Kendell and his merry wagon of annoyingly secretive men held office. Since he knew what exactly Marshall had been assigned to do since Sydney had been put into the place that had held her mother and later Sark, he frowned, knowing something was up. Lennox had disappeared the other way out of Marshall's office, so Jack had no way of knowing what he was doing. But it didn't matter. Marshall's office was not occupied by anything but his computer and that strange beanbag he seemed to love so much.

Jack rose and looked around subtlety to see if anyone noticed him, but everyone seemed to be caught up in their work or whatever mess they were trying to straighten out. He quickly entered the office and looked for the screens showing the cell. She was in pain, thrashing around and whimpering under her breath, and it made his heart hurt.

She had turned away from him, had trusted Kendell to help her with bringing the Covenant down, not him, her own father. She had betrayed everyone and she was favouring, helping, saving, protecting Sark from her own government and even though the CIA never actually gave her Sydney's identity back after having appeared in Argentina, it was the principle of things. She was born American, Sydney Bristow was born American and she should have her identity back. But Sydney was declared dead on paper and no government agent could resurrect her before going through a lot of channels. She was Julia Thorne on paper and apparently in her mind too.

He needed to help her, he just didn't know how. Irina was out of the picture from what Kendell had said. Whatever shady business Kendell was doing with Sydney and Sark, he was obviously more informed than Jack and if Kendell was trying to track down Sark because he'd been talking to Irina, then Jack had to assume he had Intel Jack was not aware of.

He could only step back and watch his daughter self-destruct for no reason he knew.

--

It had taken hours before the cries from Sydney disappeared. She had not let any doctor come near her. Kendell had come closest to touch her, but also he was flung across the cell with a vicious fresh scar on his cheek from where her fingernails had scratched him in her pain-inflicted mind. It all meant she had to deal with the pain by herself and as Kendell explained his theory of how Pandemonium withdrawal went along, he said that pain in her body was a symptom most likely to show up, but since he had never actually seen Sydney in withdrawal before, his theory could be shot to pieces. He had taken pity on Walker and locked him into an interrogation room far away from her.

Vaughn watched her stare, eyes far away and lips pressed hard together every time a violent tremor went through her body unmercifully. She was not so very different from when she worked after having been found in Argentina, but this time he knew all those looks of sadness had all been a play to get them off her trail. Behind the exterior was a traitorous woman who refused to hand over Sark because he would be able to bring her a lot of power.

He was standing outside the cell, but she didn't seem to notice him; and even if she did, she didn't show it. He could no longer stand by. He wanted answers!

,,I don't like your wife,'' she stated calmly, still staring at the opposite wall. ,,She annoys me.''

,,So…?'' he asked frowning.

She shrugged.

,,And what am I supposed to do with that?''

,,Whatever you want, I guess,'' she said, finally looking directly at him, piercing him with tormented eyes, tortured eyes. ,,I don't want you. I stopped pining for you when Sark fucked me in that inn in Nice where we had our first date.''

His brows furrowed at her sharp tongue and the harsh reality in her words stung. ,,That was uncalled for.''

She smirked. ,,No, it wasn't. I do whatever the hell I want to.''

,,You're sitting in the same cell your mother was in!'' he suddenly shouted and she started. ,,Why are you working with Sark? What is Pandemonium and why do you need it? Why did you come back if everyone is looking for you? Don't you think we deserve some answers? Jack, Weiss, Dixon… me?''

,,Don't you understand I don't fucking care!'' she said, features indifferent and eyes as cold as stone. She'd steeled herself up again. It was like looking at a blank wall.

,,No, I don't understand, Sydney! How can I understand you wanting to destroy yourself and ally yourself with that cocky sociopath son of a bitch? You screamed the night away! Something is obviously wrong with you. Why don't you let us help you? Please let us help you!''

She wasted no time in responding. ,,Because Sydney Bristow is dead.'' She looked at the hidden camera she knew was there. ,,Kendell, I want out!''

--

Kendell looked sadly at the screen. ,,Two days. We held her in two days. Release her.''

Dixon stared at the former Assistant Director with disdain.

,,My hands are tied, Dixon,'' Kendell went on. ,,She wants out, she's out.''

,,There must be something…'' Dixon began.

,,You go ahead and go against the President's orders, please. I wont stop you.''

--

Simon hadn't thought they would take him back to the cell and truthfully he didn't want to go back there either. Julia's pained screaming was still ringing in his ears and there was no way he could stand another night with her, but when he could see into the cell, it was empty. Julia was nowhere to be seen.

,,Where's Thorne?'' he asked the agent escorting him, one of the agents that had captured him in the first place.

,,Worried about the boss, huh,'' the agent said. He was a little on the chummy side, but Simon knew he was extremely intelligent and he had been taken down by the bloke anyway no matter how humiliating it was.

He shrugged at the agent's remark as the door to the cell shut behind him. ,,Is she a double agent?'' he asked when the agent had turned his back on him. ,,Julia?''

The other man froze. ,,I don't even think she knows if she is.''

,,Sounds like her,'' Simon amended. ,,You're Weiss, yes? You and Lennox caught me?''

The agent nodded. ,,Yeah, I'm Weiss. What do you mean… about Sydney?''

Simon frowned, recalling the name Sydney as the alias she had been using before she had been captured in the cell. ,,She's begun acting bloody strange over the last year, I'll tell you. I've never seen her not killing a witness and I've known her for about four years now, before Sark ever came along.''

Weiss came forward again, staring at him through the glass. ,,Walker, Sydney knew Sark when she was working for SD-6. Get over yourself. You didn't know her first, he did.''

--

France

Volver woke up with a start and scrambled to get the ringing cell phone on the night desk by the bed. He groaned in annoyance, but he knew that not answering phone calls could be disastrous.

,,Yes?'' he barked into the phone.

,,_Volver, it's… me_,'' a tentative voice said and he sat up surprised.

,,Miss Thorne?''

,,_Rules are meant to be broken-_'' she began.

,,And bend to further the goals of anarchy,'' he finished. ,,Where are you?''

She hesitated. ,,_I went back to… the CIA. I'm with Fixer_.''

He rubbed his head, feeling the thousands of assignments piling up mentally. ,,Jesus Christ.''

,,_I made a mistake. Could you please come and get me and… not tell Sark_?''

He was already out of the bed, pulling on discarded pants from the day before and making his way to his always lit-up computer, mentally calculating how long it would take to get out of France. ,,Where are you exactly?''

,,_Los Angeles, Fisherman's Logistics' storage room 47_.''

,,Fifteen hours, miss Thorne.''

,,_Yeah.''_

--

Dixon had let her out of the cell with a grim look that she had returned blankly. He had no other choice and even though Jack and Vaughn had looked at him with disgust, a call from Matthew Wayne was not to be ignored.

Kendell had given her a phone and had ordered her to get the help from someone outside. She had accepted it with a curt nod and had even sounded hesitant when she had said Volver's name into the speaker.

Dixon sat in the solitude of his office, trying to make sense of what was happening around him. He didn't know how to handle it, because like Jack and Vaughn, he had grieved for a beloved one and now she was back, relatively speaking anyway, and how do you make sense of a friend you thought you knew, but who had gone completely insane over a distance of time where she had been declared dead and gone.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a knock on his door and he looked up to see the woman in question walking inside with the man he had identified as Tim Danes behind her.

,,I told you to stay in the conference room,'' he said bitterly.

She shrugged and sat down in the chair opposite him. ,,I'm here for a reason, Dixon.''

He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap, furrowing his eyebrows, telling her to talk if she absolutely needed to.

,,I think you should come and work for APO,'' she told him.

,,APO?''

,,Authorised Personal Only, Kendell's black-ops division. The division supporting me, that is using me as a sleeper,'' she replied. ,,Of everyone here, you are the only one I can stand to be around…''

,,No,'' he said forcefully, leaning forward. ,,Why are you asking me this?''

,,I realise you have family…'' she began.

,,That's not it, Sydney, and you know it!''

,,I just alienated the people that made Sydney who she was, sweet, gentle, loving. I don't care anymore… for them or for anyone else. I just don't care. But for some strange reason my feeling for you are unchanged. I still trust you with my life. You are smart and capable and the perfect agent. I would have tried to recruit you into the Paciscor, but Sark stopped me before I had a chance to seek you out.''

He was both shocked and… well, shocked of what she had said. It was kind of flattering to be told you were special by her, because of what he had seen her become, because of the suffering of Sark's betrayal, the hellish nightmares and whatever un-Godly stuff life had thrown her way. ,,What is Paciscor?'' he said, the one word ringing in his years.

She smiled at him slightly and Dixon was shocked to see how genuine it was. ,,It means 'covenant' in Latin. When I got together with Sark, we were entirely funded by the Covenant, so we saw it fitting to show who had allowed us an existence as a crime syndicate,'' she explained.

,,What we call Julia Thorne's network?''

She nodded. ,,Yes.''

,,You actually have a name for it?'' he said shocked.

,,A not very known name, but yes, we do.''

There was a big thick silence, where Dixon studied her with his dark eyes and a slight frown. ,,You know it's not possible.''

She nodded in return, not even looking resigned. He figured she had probably figured out he wouldn't do it. She stood up, turned her back to him and walked towards the door before she stopped with her hand on the doorknob. ,,I really do miss you, Marcus,'' she told him silently and disappeared again with the agent following her steps.

--

Fisherman's Logistics' storage room #47

She trusted Volver to come and get her, trusted him to not tell Sark about her, but she still doubted just a little. What if Volver's loyalties had shifted while she had been away, while she had mysteriously disappeared, leaving him with no instructions? He might have been working with Sark to take her away…

She shifted in her seat, trying not to stare nervously at her hands. She couldn't afford her father to be a father right now, not the way he was staring at her from across the van, Vaughn on one side and Weiss on the other. They were there to make sure she left Los Angeles and ultimately the United States and went back to wherever she hid out.

Kendell and the other APO agents were in a van before the one she was currently sitting in and she would have preferred the other one over this one any day, but Dixon had been determined. She was to be there with her pissed off old friend, former boyfriend and storm-cloud father.

,,What?'' she said, quirking her eyebrow. They looked away guiltily and she suppressed a smirk.

The vans arrived at the storage room late in the cold, but not quite cold, February night. East Los Angeles buzzed with the energy of the six o'clock rush, which would make it harder for cameras to track the movements of two vans. They could blend in easily and that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be able to move around freely without having to concern herself with too much thinking about the risks of driving around in Los Angeles without Volver. When she had been on her own, she could pretend to be one of her numerous aliases and she needn't concern herself about detection at all, but as a large group with well-known agents such as her father and Vaughn who were known to be affiliated with Sydney Bristow, the risk of detection was just that much bigger.

She looked at her digital watch and calculated Volver could arrive anytime and just as the thought passed in her mind, a dark blue 147 Alfa Romeo rolled into the storage room and she quickly recognised Radcliffe behind the wheel and Volver in the passenger's seat. She smiled.

Kendell walked to a standstill beside her and looked at the parked car. ,,I don't think Sark is healthy for you,'' he admitted, seeing her eyes clouding with badly hidden anger. ,,Whether you protest or not, I'm going to start working on revoking his pardon agreement to keep him out of prison.''

,,I'll hide him,'' she retorted angrily.

,,I will find him,'' he said, calmly.

,,I wont let him be found.''

,,I found you, didn't I?''

Volver stepped out of the car, flanked by Radcliffe, Raiver and another one of his loyal employees who all looked suspiciously at the crowd surrounding her and she knew she had to get away from them. As to not arouse suspicion to their affiliation, her returning to Volver was done as an exchange of money. Her men believed the CIA agents were freelancers who had been lucky to catch her on a bad day. It was bad enough her father and the rest of them knew about how deep Paciscor actually was affiliated with the American Government, she could not afford more possible leaks.

,,Do you have the money?'' Danes asked Volver and the Frenchman nodded, signalling Radcliffe to get the money out off the back of the car.

Radcliffe opened the black case and showed hundreds of bills. Danes studied them with morbid fascination and nodded in Kendell's direction. ,,They're legit.''

,,Miss Thorne… Mr Volver,'' Kendell said. ,,Pleasure doing business with you.''

She snorted in his general direction and made her way to protection and safety, well as much safety as Volver could give her by deleting all trails she made doing business all over the world. Without looking back, she settled into the car and left behind her old life for good this time.

--

Once again, short reminder.

READ EYA: PANDEMONIUM.

It's on my profile!


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